


Full Disclosure

by Theamazingannie



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: F/M, High School, M/M, The Losers Club Stay in Derry (IT), and yes this is Bev/bill dont come for me, its my fic, mike goes to school with them cuz I say so, they're kinda an unpopular ship but idc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-02-23 11:54:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 37,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23711098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theamazingannie/pseuds/Theamazingannie
Summary: The Loser Club has joined the Derry High Drama Department. The show: The Addams Family Musical! A show based on keeping secrets and relationship drama? There's NO WAY that's what's happening in real life. It's just a show. Right???
Relationships: Bill Denbrough/Beverly Marsh, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 3
Kudos: 17





	1. When You're an Addams

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so I was a major theater geek in high school. No shame. Addams Family was my first show when I joined my junior year and I loved it so much. Most of the experiences are actual things that happened to us, with some added drama for the thrill of it. All of the weird side characters and the traditions they do are all based on my theater experience, so they might not be universal. I would love to hear about your theater experiences, though, so let me know in the comments! There will be a lot of references to the show, but I'll try to keep it based on the soundtrack so you don't have to know the whole show to know what's going on, although the version I did was a little bit different than the original. I will make sure to add any info needed to keep up but feel free to ask questions, either here or on my tumblr (same name). With that, we're off! I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Quick plot to the musical: The Addams find out about Wednesday's new boyfriend, Lucas, who is making her into a...happy person. Wednesday reveals to her father that he is not just her boyfriend; he's her fiance, but she doesn't want her mom to know. Gomez has to choose between lying to his wife and betraying his daughter, two things he never wants to do. Plus, there is lots of meddling from Uncle Fester and their dead ancestors.
> 
> Roles  
> Beverly-Wednesday Addams  
> Bill-Lucas Beineke  
> Richie-Lurch  
> Eddie-Ancestor  
> Stan-Assistant Stage Manager  
> Ben-Spotlight  
> Mike-Deck Crew

**Saturday, April 6, 2019: 19 days until opening night**

"This is wh-where I first s-saw...where I first s-saw... _damn it_!" Bill buried his face in his script book. Theater had helped his stutter significantly, but it still came out sometimes, even when he was going over lines he'd read through a million times. It didn't help that the girl who was playing his love interest in this musical was looking at him. It didn't help that the girl who was playing his love interest was Beverly. This wasn't the first time they had been in a play together, or even the first time they had played love interests, but it didn't calm his nerves at all. He hated that he still got nervous around her. They had defeated a killer clown together, but it didn't stop his stomach from getting butterflies every time she smiled at him. Which she was doing right now. Shit.

"You got this, Bill!" she called to him. She was sitting on the edge of the stage to the right, talking with Richie. Richie was practicing his moans with her, but she kept occasionally looking away from him and up at Bill. 

"Alright, let's take five!" the director, Abby, said. "Bill, get some water and go over some of the tongue twister exercises we talked about."

He nodded at her and sighed, sitting down with Bev and Richie. "I don't know why I'm having such tr-tr-trouble." He put his face in his hands and groaned.

Richie imitated the groan. "Nah, not the sound I'm going for."

Bill looked up to glare at him. Bev did the same. She put her hand on Bill's shoulder. "It's just nerves. This is your first big role. It's natural to be nervous. Yesterday, when we were working on the opening, I dropped my crossbow. It happens."

"It was your first time with the crossbow and it's surprisingly heavy for a prop," Bill said. "We've had these lines for _weeks_. We're supposed to be off-book by next week and I can't even get through the lines with my script right in front of me."

"You'll get it. I can help you. How about I come by after set build today? In exchange, you can help me with my paper for English. Trust me, it's not pretty."

Bill smiled at her. "Yeah, okay. Sounds good."

Richie stared at them, his eyes wide. "Wait, we're supposed to be off-book by _next week_? What am I supposed to _do_? I'll never memorize my lines by then!"

Bill and Beverly rolled their eyes at each other. "You don't have any lines, Rich," Bill told him, not for the first time.

Richie put his hands up in defense. "Hey, my moans are lines! They're basically lines in a different language. I have to convey my message with no words. That's not easy to do."

"It's good practice," Bev said with a grin.

Richie frowned. "What the fuck does that mean?" He looked like he was about to say more, but something behind Bill caught his eye and he perked up. "Eddie Spaghetti! There you are!" Without even a goodbye, he left them. 

Bill and Bev exchanged a grin. She had such a pretty smile. Her smile reminded him of the smile she had when he kissed her after the blood oath, and he felt those butterflies in his stomach again. When she had left for Portland, he had missed her. They talked all the time on the phone and sent letters to each other, but as the year went on, the phone calls and letters grew fewer and far between. He had chalked it up to her moving on, getting new friends at her new school. Then she had come back, the summer before freshman year, and he had been so grateful. She had told them that she missed them, that she felt compelled to come back before it was too late. He had hoped that that at least partly meant them, the two of them, but something had changed between them. It was like she had forgotten what happened that summer. The memories of Niebolt had slowly come back. The kiss hadn't. Bill hadn't known what to think about that, so he hadn't done anything. Maybe this musical was the chance to remind her, to rekindle the spark that had formed that summer. He just had to work up the courage to try. Killer clowns? Easy peasy. Cute girls? Yikes.

"Do you think they'll ever realize they're in love with each other?" Bev asked.

"Huh?" Bill snapped back into the moment and followed her eyes to where Richie was pinching Eddie's cheeks on the other side of the stage. "Oh, them? I've been asking myself that question for years."

Bev smiled at him. "Maybe this musical will spark something in them."

God, could she read minds? "Y-yeah. M-m-maybe." That damn stutter...

Eddie smacked Richie's hands away. 'Would you stop that? You're gonna end up giving me nerve damage!"

Richie laughed. "Nerve damage? From pinching your cheeks? Is it just me or do you get more irrational after every doctor's appointment? How was it, by the way?"

Eddie sighed. "Well, I don't have a tumor. I'm pretty sure my mom just wanted to keep me out of rehearsal for the day. Why else would she schedule an appointment on a Saturday morning? Unfortunately for her, I'm not actually sick, so it went by pretty quickly. Pretty sure Abby hates me, though. I'll never get a main cast role if I'm late all the time."

"Hey, being main cast isn't all it's cracked up to be," Richie told him. "Apparently, we're supposed to have our lines memorized by next week. I think I'm gonna need help. Wanna come over tonight and run lines with me?"

Eddie rolled his eyes. "Richie, your only lines in this musical are moaning."

Richie grinned. "Exactly. I figured you could come help me with that." He winked and Eddie felt his face get warm. 

He pushed Richie’s shoulder lightly. “What’d I miss while I was gone?”

Richie shrugged. "Nothing much. Mostly just reconnecting after Spring Break and trying to get used to performing on a stage instead of the choir room. We were having trouble with the audio system, so we've mainly been doing small cast scenes and working on 'vocal projection.'" He said the last part mockingly. He sighed. "B-b-bill's back."

"Aww. I thought the vocal exercises were working?"

"They were, for a while." He threw his hands on his hips. "I wonder whatever could be the problem!" he said dramatically. He nodded his head towards Bill and Bev, who were still seated on the corner of the stage, laughing about something. 

"I thought they would be together by now," Eddie said. "Bill kissed her the summer before she went to Portland! I assumed they'd have gotten passed their year-long separation after all this time."

"Well, the whole not-remembering-the-kiss thing kinda threw him off."

"She still doesn't remember?" He paused, fidgeting with his hands. "Is this going to happen to all of us? When we leave Derry, are we going to forget each other? I don't want to forget you. Guys. I don't want to forget you guys." He cleared his throat, hoping Richie didn't notice his slip up. Fortunately, he didn't appear to. Unfortunately, he looked just as sad as Eddie felt, and Eddie didn't want him to be sad. He shouldn't have brought it up, but it was something he had thought about ever since Bev came back to Derry. "Let's just forget about this...ah, bad choice of words." He winced, then grabbed the arm of someone passing by. "Hey, Stanley! Great to see you! What's on the agenda for today?"

Stan squinted his eyes at Eddie's odd behavior, but odd behavior was kind of the norm for them, so he ignored it. "Ummm, let's see." He looked down at his clipboard. Eddie knew that he didn't actually need a clipboard, but he also knew Stan liked to look professional in his new role as assistant stage manager. "Uh, we are...focusing on some blocking today, now that we have access to the stage. We are also going to do some work on choreography, mainly When You're An Addams. Probably a run-through of One Normal Night if we have time." He lowered his voice. 'And if Bill can make it through his lines."

"He and Bev just need to bone," Richie told them.

"Richie!" Eddie scolded, and Stan scowled at him.

Richie threw his hands up defensively. "What? I'm just saying what we are all thinking!"

"We are _not_ all thinking that," Stan said, but he didn't look too sure about that. He sighed. "It _is_ affecting their acting, though. They need to work it out before opening night or the show will be a mess."

"How about you talk to Big Bill and I get Beverly?" Richie suggested.

Stan scoffed. "Yeah, cuz you know so much about admitting your feelings for your friend."

Richie looked hurt by that, but Eddie figured he was just being dramatic as usual. "Uncalled for, Stanley. Besides, isn't this whole play about working out relationships? I'll just take some notes from Uncle Fester and Gomez. Worked out in the end for them, didn't it? Speaking of the end, do you think we could squeeze in a little 'Move Toward the Darkness' today? It's the best song in the play."

"You only think it's the best song cuz it's the one you get a solo in," Eddie told him.

Richie shrugged. "Of course. Any song Richie Tozier gets a solo in is always gonna be the best song." Eddie had to agree there. He loved watching Richie sing during rehearsals. Almost as much as he loved watching him act. Richie made a fantastic Lurch. Not that Eddie would ever admit that to him.

"No," Stan said. "We are doing blocking today. The finale song everybody just stands around for most of it. Maybe sometime next week."

Richie slumped his shoulders, frowning. "Well, fuck. Can I just go home then?"

"No. You still have to show up even when you're not the center of attention. I know that's a problem for you, but you still have to. The ancestors show up even when they aren't the focus. Right, Eddie?"

Eddie sighed. "Yeah. I hate choreography, though. Maybe I should have faked a tumor to stay at the doctor's longer."

Stan looked at him like he wanted to argue with him but instead took a deep breath. "Just...try your best. We want this to be a good show, right? Right. Okay, let's get back to work." He forced a smile and then headed out of the auditorium, probably to yell at some other chorus members to focus better. He took his job very seriously, but Eddie appreciated that. Despite his complaints, he wanted this to be a good show, too. 

"Hey, you going to set build today?" he asked Richie.

"I don't know. Maybe. Are you?"

"Maybe. Depends on how badly Abby kills me with choreography today." They briefly looked away upon hearing Abby call for everyone to head to their places for the beginning of When You're An Addams. Eddie sighed.

Richie threw his arm around Eddie's shoulder. "Aw, Eds, you'll do great. You're a great dancer. Go blow them away." He removed his arm and moved to the back of the stage and Eddie sighed. He wished Richie was an ancestor, too, so they could spend more time together. Then he sighed again. He was an idiot for pining over one of his best friends. Like that was ever going to happen. Even Uncle Fester couldn't make it so.

"Mike-a-doodle doo! Haystack! I missed you two!" Richie ran up to his friends who were entering the auditorium from the workshop and threw his arms around them.

Mike rolled his eyes, that big bright smile of his on his face. "You saw us yesterday in class."

"It's not the same. You two should've joined the cast."

"I'm perfectly content with moving set pieces around," Mike told him. 

"Yeah," Ben agreed. "I much prefer hiding in the back room with my spotlight. Way easier. Although set build will always be my favorite part of theater." Ben smiled, looking around the room. There were stacks of wood against the wall ready to be nailed together for today. Richie had to admit he was kind of excited, too. He had started set build last year too late in the game to do anything fun. Mostly everything had been built and he just painted finishing touches. Not nearly as fun as using a drill. He perked up at the thought.

"Is this who I have for the day?" A man walked into the room holding a bag that Richie assumed was full of tools. He was blond, short and a little scrawny, with glasses and a goatee. "I can't promise I will remember your name, but I hope by the end of today at least a good portion of you will be well-versed in power tools. For those of you who don't know, my name is Ezra, my assistant, Logan, is parked out back requiring assistance bringing in some more wood. Who wants to help with that?"

Eddie perked up. "Oh! Oh!" he exclaimed, jumping up and down with his hand raised.

Ezra glanced at him, a slight grimace on his face, then turned to Ben and Mike. "Ben, Ben's friend, and...you two." He pointed to two cast members behind them. Eddie pouted.

"Aww, Eds," Richie told him, ruffling his hair. "You'll get 'em next time." 

"Alright, now Logan and I will need a couple more people to help cut and put together pieces of wood. Who's interested?"

"Is there going to be a lot of sawdust?" Eddie asked. "I have allergies."

"Ummm...yeah, there will be sawdust. But you can...assist Dee with painting."

Eddie scrunched his nose. "Paint? I can't get paint all over me. Paint doesn't come out well, and I do not want that all over my skin. My mom will have an aneurism." 

Ezra stared at him blankly. Richie hid his grin in the sleeve of his shirt. Luckily, Abby came to the rescue. "I need to work on costumes today. You can help me with that, Eddie. You, too, Beverly. You're great at that. Tina and Lila, too."

Eddie sighed with relief and nodded. "Costumes. I can do costumes." Richie thought it best not to remind Eddie that the costumes rarely got washed and had been worn by tons of people throughout the years. Not to mention the dust. Eddie didn't need to know about that. What he didn't know, or more importantly what his _mom_ didn't know, wouldn't hurt him.

"Wait, can I work on costumes, too?" Richie asked, his dreams of power tools floating away as he realized that that would mean he and Eddie would be separated. 

"No," Stan said immediately. "If you put them together, they will not get any work done."

"Thank you, Stan," Abby said, a worried look on her face at the mere thought of Richie and Eddie in a small enclosed space together. "I'm well aware of Richie and Eddie's problems with focus. They are slowly becoming the bane of my existence. Eddie, you're with me. Richie, try to actually get some work done today. I expect you to be on your best behavior."

Richie stood up straight and saluted her. "Sir, yes, sir!" He slumped, however, when Eddie joined the costume group to head towards the wardrobe closet. He had only joined theater because Eddie had wanted to, but because Richie was main cast and Eddie was chorus, they didn't see each other much. And now they couldn't even do set build together. As much as he found he actually enjoyed theater, he had to admit he was disappointed.

"Don't worry, Ricky," Ezra told him. Richie went to correct him and decided to just let it go. "I'll try to find something to keep you entertained. As for the rest of you, we need about four people to help Dee with painting." Bill and Stan quickly raised their hands and were shooed off with two girl cast members to join Dee with painting the set pieces that had already been built. That left Richie, a girl from deck crew, and the guys who had gone to move the wood back to build. 

A half-hour later, after the boys had come back and Ezra had explained what they were doing, Richie was sitting on the floor with Mike, drilling holes into wood. It was a lot more fun in theory. The repetition was driving him crazy.

As if summoning him with his boredom, Eddie walked onto the stage, heading for the painting area. Richie perked up, clutching his drill and moving to stand up. Mike, noticing the look on his face, put his hand on his arm. "Richie, no. Abby said to behave."

"I've behaved for thirty minutes. I deserve this." He snuck over to where Eddie was talking to Bill.

"We found a couple suit jackets that might fit you," Eddie was saying, "but we need you to try them on so we can be s-" He screamed as Richie came up behind him and turned the drill on right next to his ear. Everyone looked up at them as Eddie's face turned bright red and Richie laughed. Eddie turned to him, furious. "I'm gonna kill you. Just you wait. I'm gonna come at you when you least expect it. You'll never see me coming."

Richie grinned. "Looking forward to it, Eds."

"Don't call me that," he muttered, and Richie's grin widened. He grabbed for the drill but Richie pulled his hand away. “Give me the drill.”

“No.”

“Give me the fucking drill, Richie.” He grabbed at it again. This time, Richie held it above his head, far out of Eddie’s reach. The shorter boy jumped for it, missing it of course. One might expect him to give up after that, to realize this goal was unwinnable, but Richie knew better than that. As he expected, Eddie forwent the jumping and went straight for attempting to climb Richie, still grabbing for the drill. It was exactly what Richie had wanted to happen. Well, he hadn’t exactly planned for this to happen when he attacked Eddie at first. His goal was always to simply annoy Eddie. His second goal was always to get Eddie to touch him, and Eddie always took the bait. 

Then Eddie put his arms around Richie's neck in his attempt to climb him, their faces mere inches from each other, and Richie lost focus and dropped the drill. The sound immediately shocked them both out of it and Eddie pulled away. 

"Richie! Eddie!" The two of them pulled away quickly as Abby's angry voice came from the workshop entrance. 

"Sorry, Abby," Eddie said. Richie simply smiled politely, kicking the drill behind him. 

Abby took a deep breath, her eyes wide and her lips pressed tightly together. "Eddie, would you please take Bill to Beverly for his fitting? Richie..." She put her hands up and walked away.

Eddie turned to Richie with what looked like genuine anger in his eyes. "Now she hates me even more. Come on, Bill." He stormed off towards the workshop, a pitying looking Bill in tow. 

"You wouldn't need to go to such extreme measures if you just told him how you feel," Stan whispered in his ear. 

"You know I can't do that. It would ruin everything."

"Or it could make everything a thousand times better. You'll never know if you don't try. You can't keep going on this way. Live before you die, and all."

"Or I could just die," Richie suggested. He nodded. "Yeah, I like that much better."

Before Stan could say anything else, Richie hurried back to his spot next to Mike and continued drilling, ignoring the pointed look Mike was trying to give him. What did they know?

"Yup. This is definitely the one." Beverly stepped back, admiring the jacket Bill was wearing. The sleeves were just a little bit too long, but she fixed that by pinning them so she could sew them later. "What do you think, Eddie?"

Eddie looked back from where he was sat on the floor looking through a box of hats. "Yeah, it really brings out your...eyes?" He shrugged. "I don't really know anything about clothes. That's your thing, Bev. Looks good, though, Big Bill."

"Alright, so just carefully take it off so you don't move the pins," she said, helping him slide out of it. She put the jacket back on its hanger and put it onto the "to be modified" rack. It was pretty empty at the moment, but once fittings started getting going there would be a lot more work to do. She loved being on stage, but she had to admit that this was her favorite part of theater. She clapped her hands quickly. "Thanks, Bill. Go make some magic with those paints."

He smiled, giving her finger guns while walking backward toward the door. He bumped the doorframe, stuttered out a farewell, and quickly hurried away.

Beverly tilted her head and laughed softly before joining Eddie on the floor. He was giving her a goofy grin. "What?" she asked slowly.

He shrugged. "Nothing. Just...you guys seem so good together. You get on so well."

"Well, yeah. We're friends."

"Just friends?" Eddie prodded.

"Just friends," she repeated stiffly. "Just like you and Richie are 'just friends'...right?"

That shut him up, just like she expected it to. It was unfair of her, using his not-so-secret crush against him like that, but she really didn't want to talk about her and Bill. There wasn't a 'her and Bill' to talk about. Eddie shuffled through the box, pointedly ignoring the question. Not that Beverly had needed an answer. He and Richie _weren't_ 'just friends'. It was obvious to anyone but the two of them. Not that Beverly would ever _really_ talk with either of them about it. It was something they needed to figure out on their own. Sometimes it was best to just let things go their natural path. If they truly want to be together, they will be. 

"Oh-ho, look at this!" Eddie said excitedly, pulling Bev out of her thoughts. He pulled out a hat shaped like a turkey.

"What on earth was that for?" she asked with a laugh.

"I vaguely remember hearing about some Thanksgiving show with the fourth graders last year. So glad I'm not in elementary school anymore. There's _no way_ my mom would let me put something like this on my little nine-year-old head."

"How does she feel about you being in this show?" she asked. "She does know you'll have to wear a costume right? One that probably hasn't been washed in, like, forever?"

Eddie looked down at the hatbox in horror, looking like _he_ didn't want to wear a costume that hadn't been washed in forever, but he steadied himself. "What my mother doesn't know won't hurt her," he said firmly. "And more importantly, it won't hurt me. I've been keeping all the information about the show on a need-to-know basis. And she doesn't really need to know anything except for when I'll be rehearsing. I never even told her what show we're doing. She would be hysterical if she found out we were doing something so 'dark' and 'satanic'." 

"She's going to find out eventually, you know."

"Hopefully by the time she does, it will be too late. And if not, I've gotten pretty good at sneaking out of the house." He gave her a bright, forced smile. "Everything is going to be fine!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was mainly introductory. It will definitely be picking up in the next chapter. I hope you enjoyed! I will post more shortly. Until then, let me know what you think so far!


	2. The Show Must Go On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Repressed feelings lead to a lot of tension behind the scenes.

**Monday, April 8, 2019: 17 days until opening night**

"And there she was: Wednesday with a crossbow, and she looked like Diana the Huntress!"

"You got it!" Bev said with a big smile. They were seated in Bill's car in his driveway, getting ready to leave for rehearsal. Bev had enjoyed their times of riding their bikes everywhere, but she had to admit it was so nice that Bill was sixteen and had his license and a car. Beverly was sixteen, too, but her aunt couldn't afford a car on her single-parent salary, so Bev took full advantage of Bill's. 

"Yeah," Bill muttered. "Just hopefully I can maintain it for nineteen more days."

Beverly put her hand on his shoulder. "You're gonna be great. The more you practice the less it will come out. Outside of rehearsal, too. You went almost all of last year and this year without stuttering. It's just nerves, like I told you. Once we get more comfortable with performing, it's gonna be as easy as breathing." He sighed, resting his head against the headrest. Bev put her hand on his shoulder. "You're gonna be amazing. You've faced tougher things than this."

"I think I might prefer the clown," he told her.

She rolled her eyes. "We better get going or we're gonna be late. We still gotta get Stan."

"Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you. Stan's riding with Richie today."

Bev raised her eyebrows. "Stan voluntarily is riding with Richie and Eddie?"

Bill laughed. "Yeah. Richie hasn't been alone with Eddie since the...incident. He managed to convince Stan to come and be a buffer between them. I pray for his sanity."

"What even happened this weekend?" Bev asked. "You never told me."

Bill sighed. "It's just their classic pining. It's exhausting. They can hug and climb on each other and even fucking cuddle, but the moment things start to get too real, they run. I just wish they could just...admit their feelings for each other, get it over with, you know? It has to be better than all this...pining."

"Maybe they're afraid that the other doesn't feel the same way," Bev said slowly, looking down at her hands. "Or that, if it doesn't work out, it could ruin their friendship, or the whole group. It's a big thing, going from friends to more than friends."

"But wouldn't it be worth the risk?" Bev risked a glance at Bill and saw that he was looking straight out the front window. 

"Would it?" she asked him. 

Bill cleared his throat suddenly, turning the keys and starting the car. "We should get to school. I have Gov first period and didn't do the reading yet."

"Yeah," Bev agreed. "I have to talk to my Algebra teacher."

They stayed silent for the rest of the drive.

"So," Stan said, breaking the seven-minute straight silence that had started as soon as they pulled into Eddie's driveway. He would be lying if he said he hadn't seen the hurt on Eddie's face when he saw Stan sitting in the passenger seat of Richie's car. Ever since Richie had gotten this car for his sixteenth birthday last month, he had driven Eddie to school, and Eddie alone. Once, Ben had asked for a ride to school because his mother had an early meeting, and the look Eddie had shot him was so severe that Bill had offered to go out of his way to pick Ben up. It was their routine, and Stan understood the significance of breaking a routine. The only reason he had even agreed to come was because Richie had spent all Sunday begging him. Stan didn't even really understand why this time was different. Richie and Eddie had gotten to themselves in plenty of awkward situations due to their feelings for each other. Usually, they just rolled with it. Stan couldn't count on both hands the number of times that the two had shared the hammock or piled on top of each other in an armchair. The other losers had long since learned not to question it. Maybe this pining thing was finally coming to an end, for better or for worse. 

"See any cool birds lately?" Richie asked. 

Stan shot him an annoyed look. "You don't care about my birds."

Richie scoffed. "Sure I do. You got the...the pigeons, and the swans, and the dodos."

"Dodo birds are extinct, you swine."

"'Kay, so you haven't seen any lately..."

"I saw a hooded warbler yesterday," Eddie offered. 

"See? Eddie takes interest in me." He looked back to smile at Eddie who grinned back proudly. 

"I went to your bar mitzvah!" Richie said.

" _Three years ago_ ," Stan replied, shooting him a dirty look. "You've got to stop holding that over me. Get some new material. Maybe start by taking my advice for once."

"Your advice sucks," Richie said. He took in an audible breath and appeared to be holding it.

"What are you-"

He released the breath and quickly said, "Just like Eddie's mom last night."

"Shut up, Richie," Eddie said, but Stan could see the pleased look on his face. The silent treatment was over. Everything was back to normal. Stan didn't know whether to be happy or disappointed.

"I just don't see why Lurch can't have a love interest," Richie said, walking with Bill from the bathroom to the auditorium after school. Abby had told them on Saturday to pack a change of comfortable clothes because they would be doing choreography all rehearsal. It was usually in the evenings, but Abby had a meeting with the school board about the show tonight and she refused to cancel a rehearsal. Lurch didn't even dance in the show, being a zombie and all, but Abby wanted him to be there for blocking. "I mean, the play is about love. Lurch should get a little something-something if you know what I mean?"

"Totally agree," Bill said. He nudged Richie slyly. "Have anyone in mind? A specific chorus member, perhaps?"

"No!" Richie said quickly. He ignored how warm his face felt. Luckily, they were entering the auditorium and it was still dimly lit. "I just mean like in general. Like, yeah, he has his flirtations with Alice, but I think he deserves something more. He's constantly doing so much for the Addams family. He should get something in return, you know?"

Bill raised his eyebrows and nodded slowly. "You should definitely talk to Abby about that."

"Talk to Abby about what?" Eddie walked down the aisle towards them, and Richie's heart sped up involuntarily. He was dressed for choreography, with a t-shirt and those short-shorts he wore this summer, a headband, and, the part that really completed the outfit, knee and elbow pads. Richie fought really hard to hide his smile. 

Bill had the privilege of not needing to, bursting out laughing as soon as he saw him. "Eddie, it's _dancing_ , not _skateboarding_."

Eddie frowned. "The stage floor is very hard. A lot can happen with us all up there. I'm not taking any chances."

"He's just laughing cuz you look so cute, Eds," Richie said, not being able to help himself. He reached over to pinch Eddie's cheek.

Eddie swatted his hand away. "Stop that. I hate it when you do that. And don't call me Eds."

"You know you love it." 

Eddie rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I gotta go do my pre-dance stretches." He hurried off to the stage.

Richie looked over at Bill, who was smiling at him. "What?" he asked.

Bill shook his head, the smile still there. "Nothing. I'm going to go ask Abby what dances we are covering today. I don't really do much and I wanna see if I have time to get some homework done."

He walked off and Richie found his eyes drawn to Eddie standing center stage, doing some lunges to warm up. He felt a small smile appear on his face and hoped no one noticed.

"I love him, but I cannot believe that is the guy that keeps you up at night," Stan said, peering beside him.

"Shut up," Richie said. But he wasn't wrong...

"Good afternoon, everyone!" Abby said, climbing down the stairs from the booth. "I need all ancestors plus Wednesday on stage so we can run the beginning of the When You're an Addams dance. Other Addams stick around because you will be joining in later on. Yes, that includes you, Richie. Stan, Tracy, with me." 

"That's my cue," Stan said, hurrying off to join Abby with the head stage manager. When they got there, the two exchanged a displeased look. Stan hated her because he didn't think she was as good as he was. She hated him because she thought he was trying to steal her job. He was, so Richie thought that was justified. Eddie and Beverly were on stage and Bill was sitting in a seat in the front left trying to work on homework, so Richie decided to pop a seat near the front on the right to watch. 

Twenty minutes in and Richie could feel Abby's frustration without even looking at her. So maybe Richie had been fibbing a bit when he called Eddie a good dancer. But hey, none of them were all that good, so it wasn't _completely_ his fault. One thing Richie loved about playing Lurch is that he didn't have to dance much in the show. Eddie may have been bad, but with Richie's long limbs he still wasn't used to, he was _so_ much worse. He tried not to laugh as Eddie tripped over his own feet for the billionth time, his frown deepening as he did so. Richie was going to call out some words of encouragement when he heard some girls giggling behind him.

"Eddie is kinda cute," the junior girl who played Morticia whispered to the girl who played Alice Beinike, a senior. "I can't believe I never noticed before. Do you think he's single?" Richie felt his face warm up and tried to tell himself he wasn't jealous. Of course girls would think Eddie was cute. He couldn't be the only one who thought so. He had been stupid to believe that he would get to have Eddie all to himself.

"You should ask Richie," Alice said. "They're always together. He would know." Richie's heart skipped a beat. He could always lie, say Eddie was taken. Or that he wasn't interested in her, that she wasn't his type. But that wouldn't be fair to Eddie. He deserved to be happy with someone, even if that someone wasn't him. _Especially_ if it wasn't. 

"You're so right," Morticia whispered back. "Hey, Richie!" she called. 

Richie took a deep breath and turned to face her just as a _thud_ sound came from the stage and Eddie shouted in pain. He snapped his neck to see what happened and saw Eddie gripping his face, blood running out of his nose. A freshman girl had her hands over her mouth as she shouted apologies at him. Without even thinking, Richie jumped over the seat in front of him and onto the stage, running right over to Eddie. He helped him to sit down onto the stage and tilted his head forward, the way he remembered Eddie telling him it was supposed to be done.

"Somebody get some tissues!" someone called. 

"No, that will make the bleeding worse," Richie said automatically. Eddie looked at him in surprise. "What? I pick up things. Are you okay?" he asked softly, putting his arm around Eddie's shoulders. 

"Yeah, I don't think it's broken," Eddie replied in a nasally voice. "But I got blood everywhere. My mom is going to flip when she sees this."

"You can come over to my house after rehearsal and I'll have my mom wash your clothes. She's really good about getting blood out. She's had to do it plenty of times after my run-ins with Bowers."

"Thanks."

"Okay, everybody, get back!" Abby said, hurrying up to the stage. "Give him some room. Richie, why don't you take him to the bathroom and help him get cleaned up. We'll take five." 

Richie helped Eddie to his feet and down the stairs of the stage. As he passed where Morticia and Alice were standing, he thought he heard Alice whisper, "I don't think he's single." But he could have just imagined it, right?

Once they got to the bathroom, Richie grabbed a bunch of paper towels and stuck them under some cold water. "What even happened up there?"

"Mia socked me in the nose."

"Do you need me to fight her for you?"

"It was my fault," he said miserably, but he smiled a little. "I was supposed to go right but I went left. I'm a terrible dancer."

"No," Richie lied. Eddie looked up at him. "You just need a little practice. We can work on it tonight. I'll help you."

"Thanks, Rich. You probably have better things to do than help me not kill myself on stage."

_There is nothing in the world I would rather do_ , Richie thought. Out loud, he said, "Helping you dance gives me an excuse to see your mom."

Eddie rolled his eyes. "My mom will not see me dance. We are doing this at _your_ house." He paused, then grinned. "Gives me an excuse to see _your_ mom."

Richie scoffed. "She's too good for you." _You're too good for_ me _,_ he thought. "How long are you supposed to hold your nose like that? I'm kinda digging the nasalness."

"That's not a word," Eddie said. "Ten minutes. I forgot to keep a timer."

Richie pulled out his phone. "It was around 3:20 when she hit you and it's 3:26 now, so four more minutes? Hopefully, it's done after this. Are you going to need to sit out the rest of rehearsal?"

"Hopefully not. They say you shouldn't do any physical activity after one, but if I can't rehearse, I'm never gonna learn the dance."

Richie gasped dramatically. "Is Edward Kaspbrak going to ignore a doctor's order?"

Eddie rolled his eyes. "I think I've done enough precautionary shit in my life to warrant one dumb decision. After all, the show must go on."

"The show must go on," Richie repeated. He checked the time and saw that the ten minutes had passed. Eddie released his nose and the blood seemed to have stopped flowing. Richie got the paper towels ready. "Let's get you cleaned up," he said, softly dabbing Eddie's upper lip, trying hard not to make a big deal of it. They were standing very close to each other. Richie could feel Eddie's breath on his arm. His own breath was shaky and he tried to steady it, focusing on cleaning up the blood. Their faces were so close together, their lips only inches apart. It would be so easy to just...

The door opened suddenly and Richie jumped away, dropping the paper towel on the floor. Stan entered, looking worried. "Everything okay in here? Eddie, you all good?"

"All good," Eddie said softly, his eyes wide. 

Richie nodded slowly, kneeling to pick up the fallen paper towel, taking the time to close his eyes and try to calm himself down. _I almost kissed Eddie_ , he thought. _I actually almost did it. I almost changed everything._ It had been so easy, too. Just a few more inches and they would have been kissing. If Stan hadn't walked in...He wasn't sure whether to be angry or relieved. It was probably for the best. Yeah, they would have kissed, but then what? What would they be? Boyfriends? Is that even what Eddie wanted? He was probably just freaking out that Richie wanted to kiss him, that Richie had feelings for him beyond what was appropriate for friendship. God, what if he'd already messed everything up? 

"Uh, yeah," he said, voice hoarse "All good in here. See you inside." He quickly left the room, leaving Stan and Eddie to stare after him.


	3. The Big Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tension exists. Meddling occurs. This is what happens when you put a bunch of overdramatic teens together.

**Thursday, April 11, 2019: 14 days until opening night**

Eddie didn't know what had happened in the bathroom that day, or what had been _about_ to happen when Stan came in, but something had changed between him and Richie. He wasn't avoiding him as he had over the weekend, but he was... _different_. From the outside, it probably didn't look much different. He still drove him to and from school, still told jokes and laughed, still sat next to Eddie in class. He had even followed through with his plans to help Eddie with his dancing after school. But he was...distant. He didn't pinch Eddie's cheeks and call him cute. He didn't sit close to him when they hung out after school. He didn't put his arm around him when they walked down the hallway. It was like he was afraid to touch Eddie, afraid to get too close. It drove Eddie crazy, especially considering what had almost happened in the bathroom.

Maybe Eddie _was_ going crazy. Maybe everything that had happened he had just imagined. Or maybe he had misread everything. Richie had probably just been trying to clean up the blood from Eddie's nosebleed and had sensed what Eddie had been thinking and got freaked out and that's what he left. Because Eddie had wanted to kiss Richie that day, more than he had ever wanted to kiss him before. And he had almost thought that Richie had felt the same way, that Richie would have kissed him if Stan hadn't interrupted. But there was no way. Why else would Richie be so afraid to touch him now? Like he was afraid that he would give Eddie the wrong message if he did. 

This was the worst kind of hell.

The last bell of the day rang and Eddie shuffled miserably to his locker. The losers were planning on meeting up at the clubhouse after school to study for their Algebra test tomorrow. Or, Stan, Ben, and Mike would be studying; Bill and Bev would be running lines; and Eddie and Richie...

Eddie didn't know what they were going to do. Usually, they would play games, or lay together in the hammock while reading comic books. But if Richie wanted nothing to do with him anymore, then he had no idea what he was supposed to do. 

He met Richie at their...his car. Mike was there, too. Bill only had room for four in his car, so when they met up at the clubhouse after school, Richie usually took one of them. Eddie was glad it was Mike. Ben would notice the tension between them in a heartbeat and try to get them to work it out. And Stan...Stan would probably want to ask them about what happened in the bathroom. Unless Richie already told him. Whatever the case, he would want to talk about it, too.

Mike, though...Mike was just along for the ride. Even if he felt the tension, he would know that it wasn't something they wanted to talk about and would leave it alone. And that he did. They spent the ride listening to Fall Out Boy at a louder volume than Eddie appreciated (they could get tinnitus!), but he kept quiet about it because Eddie didn't want to risk alienating Richie even more over something as stupid as the stereo volume. 

Once they met up at the clubhouse, Mike, Stan, and Ben sat together on the floor and pulled out their textbooks, just like Eddie had thought would happen. Bill and Beverly, just as assumed, sat at the little table and pulled out their script books. They were technically off-book this week, but there were still a few lines they were fumbling with. 

Eddie glanced at the empty hammock, wanting nothing more than to climb in there with Richie and continue the Spider-Man issue he had been on. But Richie didn't want that, so he decided to settle into a corner and read there instead. Richie sat on the opposite side of the room and pulled out his DS. The rest of the losers stopped what they were doing and looked at the two of them in shock before whispering to each other.

_Great_ , Eddie thought. _Now they all know something is wrong, too._ Luckily, no one decided to mention it, and after a few moments of soft chattering, continued with their studying. After nearly an hour, though, Richie got fed up with the quiet.

"So what's the plan for tomorrow?"

"My parents leave at eight," Bill said, happily throwing down his script. "So we meet at 8:30. Ben's cousin is getting the booze. Stan and Bev are bringing the snacks. Richie's on pizza duty. Please don't get Hawaiian again. You and Eddie are the only ones that like it. Mike's bringing his speaker, and Eddie's...well, Eddie's gonna have a hard enough time coming up with an excuse for his mom, so I left him out."

"I actually got that covered already," Eddie said. "I told her I was staying with Stan while his dad was on a special rabbi retreat."

"A 'rabbi retreat'?" Stan asked.

Eddie shrugged. "Sorry, I panicked."

"Why didn't you just say you were going to Bill's?" Bev asked. 

"She asks the least amount of questions when I say I'm with Stan. Stan's her favorite."

Stan grinned proudly. 

"I thought _I_ was her favorite?" Richie said, offended.

Eddie rolled his eyes. "You're her _least_ favorite."

"That's not what she said la-"

"If you're all good," Bill interrupted, "then you can just help Richie with the pizza."

Eddie's shoulders slumped a little at that. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw a hurt look cross Richie's face. But maybe he had just imagined it.

After Bill parked the car in the school parking lot for rehearsal, Bev grabbed Stan and they walked a bit behind the others. 

"You see it, too, right?" she asked him in a low voice.

"See what?" 

She nodded towards Richie and Eddie, who were walking next to each other, but not nearly as close as they usually did. "Them. Something's been different all week, but the way they were acting at the clubhouse solidified it. Something is up with them."

Stan glanced up at the others, then sighed. "Okay, I wasn't going to say anything, especially in front of the others, but...something happened when they were in the bathroom on Monday, when Eddie got that nosebleed? I don't know what, but _something_. Things seemed very intense when I walked in." He had been mulling it over all week. Usually, Richie talked to him about everything. An uncomfortable amount, even. Stan had been the only one he had told about his feelings for Eddie, and Stan had become the person he turned to with all things surrounding that ever since. Which usually meant an almost daily rant about how cute Eddie was, or how good Eddie smelled, or how amazing he looked in that sweater today (" _Really_ , Richie?" Stan had said. "You're getting hot and bothered by a _sweater_ now?"). But all week, there had been nothing. Stan had been wishing for the pining to stop, but not like this. It was like he had just shut off his feelings, and Stan was getting really worried. 

"What do you think happened?" Bev asked.

"I don't think anything _did_ happen. I think I stopped it before it could. But I think..." He stopped just outside the door to the inside of the school. "I think they almost kissed. And, I don't know, maybe that freaked them out?"

"Maybe..." Bev mused. "What are we going to do about it?"

Stan eyed her. "Aren't you always the one saying to me that we should let nature run its course?"

"Well, nature is doing a shit job. We can't have them being all stiff during the show. We don't have to get them together, but we need to get them comfortable around each other again."

"And how do you suppose we do that?"

Bev considered this. "We do as the ancestors did?"

"You want to create a big hurricane that forces everyone to stay inside the house?"

"Well, not the storm part," Beverly said, a sly grin appearing on her face. "But we can keep them locked in a room for a bit."

Stan came rushing up to Beverly as soon as vocal exercises were finished. 

"Did you do it?" she asked.

He pulled a set of keys from his pocket and jangled them in front of her. "I told her you wanted to work on costumes when you weren't doing a scene tonight. You'll just have to disappear while we do this so she doesn't get suspicious. I have to help with lines, so you're on your own for this."

Bev took a deep breath. "I'm ready." She grabbed the keys. "Let's go Fester some shit up."

"Hurry, though. We're doing mainly dialogue and blocking today to prepare for deck crew coming next week, but she might notice if not all the ancestors are there. And Lurch has some scenes later. I told her that you wanted to start off with fitting Lurch, so that will buy us some time, but not forever. We're starting with the Pugsley and Grandma scene now that we have the wagon ready, but then we're doing the scene where the Beinekes first get to the house, so we'll need Richie back by then."

Bev nodded. "Got it. Fingers crossed." 

Stan held up his crossed fingers and hurried back over to where Abby was giving notes to Alice and Mal. Bev walked over to where Richie was sitting with his feet up on the seat in front of him. He dropped his feet when she arrived and smiled. "Beverly," he greeted enthusiastically. "Fancy seeing you here. How can I help you this evening?"

Bev rolled her eyes at his theatrics. "I'm doing fittings today and you're up first. Can you wait for me in the wardrobe closet while I grab a few things?"

"Wait for Beverly Marsh in a closet? It's a dream come true!" He winked and made his way up the stairs of the stage and around the corner. _One down, one to go,_ she thought.

Eddie was sitting a few rows away, looking at his script. He, too, smiled when she walked up to him, but his smile was more polite than devious. "Hey, what's up?"

"I'm doing the fitting for Lurch and I can't find the jacket we picked out on Saturday. Can you help me look for it?"

Eddie stuffed his script back into his backpack. "Yeah, of course. I thought it was on the rack of the other stuff we picked out?"

"Yeah, I don't know. It's not there anymore. I wasn't at set build all week. Someone must have moved it."

They made their way to the door of the wardrobe closet and Eddie opened it and walked in. He didn't seem to notice that Richie was in there, meaning that he was probably hiding, waiting to scare Bev when she walked in. Too bad that wasn't going to happen.

"Wait, I just need to grab something real quick. I'll be right back" She closed the door quietly, and then as quickly as possible, locked it. 

"I'll just go with you," Eddie's muffled voice said from inside. He grabbed for the door but was obviously not able to open it. "Hey, Beverly, I think the door is stuck."

"Huh. That's so weird. It jams sometimes. I'll go get Abby. You stay here!" She walked back towards the stage, then sat down on the workshop floor instead. _It's gonna be a minute before Abby can come help you,_ she thought with a devilish laugh.

Eddie tried the door again to no avail, then sighed. He'd never had much of an issue with enclosed spaces, but the wardrobe closet was a little musty even when the doors were open. Now, it felt a little suffocating. There was nothing he could do about it, though, so he set about looking for Lurch's jacket. He moved a set of clothes aside and screamed when a dark figure jumped out at him. 

"You piece of shit dumbfuck asshole dick!" he shouted at a laughing Richie. "You could have killed me!"

"Oh, please," Richie said, laughter still in his voice. "You've been through worse."

"Yeah, well maybe I'm at my capacity." He turned away, grabbing at his racing heart. "What are you doing in here?"

"I'm supposed to be getting fitted by Beverly. What are you doing here?"

"Beverly needed help finding your jacket."

Richie looked at the rack of clothes with the things Beverly had picked out so far and pulled off one of the hangers. "This one?"

Eddie inspected it. "Yeah," he said slowly, realization dawned on him. "Exactly where we put it on Saturday."

"Then why would she...ohhhh. She locked us in here, didn't she?"

"Yup."

"Why would she do that?"

_Because she knows I like you and is trying to tempt fate,_ Eddie thought _._ Out loud he said, "I have no idea." He paused, wondering if he should say what he was thinking. He finally decided to go for it. "Maybe she saw what happened at the clubhouse."

"What do you mean?" Richie asked, hand dropping from where it was stroking one of the sheer sleeves of a bright green dress in the corner of the closet.

"Do you hate me?"

At this, Richie turned to face him, an incredulous look on his face. "Why would you think that?"

Eddie fidgeted with his hands, looking down at the floor. "It's just...you've been really weird with me all week."

"Weird how?"

_You won't touch me._ "I don't know. I just get the feeling that you're mad at me."

Richie shook his head, taking a few steps closer. "I could never be mad at you. You did nothing wrong."

"Then what is it?"

It was Richie's turn to fidget with his hands. "It's nothing. Something stupid. Nothing to do with you."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"So we're cool?"

Richie smiled. "We're definitely not cool. But we're good."

"Speak for yourself. I am very cool." Eddie grabbed a pair of giant sunglasses and put them on. "See? Cool."

Richie rolled his eyes. "Dork."

"Geek."

"Nerd."

"Loser." They both smiled at that.

"Losers forever," Richie said. 

"Losers forever," Eddie repeated. He heard keys jangling outside the door and it opened, revealing Beverly.

"Huh. Sorry about that, guys," she said with a sheepish grin. 

Eddie rolled his eyes. "Found that jacket you were looking for. Right where we left it."

Beverly put her hands on her hips and shook her head. "Oh my. I sure am blind today. Thanks for your help, Eddie."

"Anytime, Bev." He walked towards the door but stopped when he got to her. "Thank you," he whispered, then walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, let me know what you think so far! The next chapter is where things get...interesting ;)


	4. Truth is Beauty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Losers have a little party at Bill's. What happens when you combine repressed feelings and alcohol? Secrets tend to be revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is a reference to Secrets. It's from a different version of the musical, but I don't know why they would leave it out considering it's so important to the plot. I highly recommend you look it up. One of my favorites.
> 
> On another note: do you ever go to post something and you're just reviewing it one last time and realize some things you want to change and then you think that maybe there are other parts you will want to change in the future so you don't want to post it yet cuz you might end up hating it but if you don't post it, your readers might be unhappy? Yeah...

**Friday, April 12, 2019: 13 days until opening night**

Beverly dropped down onto the couch next to Bill. "Wow, it has been an exhausting week."

"It's only gonna get worse," Bill told her. "Deck crew comes in next week, then it's tech week, then the show."

"I can't believe it's already almost over. It feels like just yesterday we got our roles."

"Not over yet," Stan said from his spot organizing the snack table. "There's still a lot of work to do. Ian keeps fumbling that line in 'Trapped'. Anya keeps slamming the chalice down too hard, you know it's gonna break one of these days. Not to mention you keep stuttering your Full Disclosure lines, Bill. No offense."

"I know, I'm working on it," Bill said. Beverly put her hand on his leg sympathetically and he felt like it was burning a hole through his jeans. "I've made a lot of progress this week. The stutter is almost completely gone now." 

"It better be," Stan warned. "Don't go messing up my show."

"Your show?" Beverly asked. " _I'm_ the star."

Bill chuckled. "I actually think Gomez is the star. He has more solos than you and the whole Act I is about him having to choose between you and Morticia."

"Get out of here with your facts," Bev said with a dramatic hand wave. 

"The booze train is arriving!" Mike's voice shouted from upstairs, followed by a door slam and footsteps coming down. Mike appeared first, carrying a heavy-looking box. Ben followed holding Mike's speaker. Mike dropped the box down on the coffee table in front of Bill and Bev. 

"How much alcohol did you tell your cousin to buy?" Bev asked, looking incredulously at the box. 

Ben looked sheepish. "I wanted to make sure we had enough."

"Ben, this is enough liquor to last us until graduation. Of college." Bill shuffled around in the box, surveying everything. "Shit, Ben, how much did this _cost_?"

"I've been saving up my allowance for a while."

"We're gonna pay you back, Ben," Bev said. She shuffled around in her purse. "Here's a ten-dollar bill," she said, offering it to him. "It's all I have at the moment."

He held up his hand. "Pay me back when you're a rich and famous designer."

Bev smiled. "Will do."

"Let's get this party started!" Mike yelled, setting his speaker down on the fireplace and turned it on. Almost immediately, bagpipes blared out at top volume. Everybody flinched and grabbed at their ears as Mike scrambled to turn it off. He turned to them sheepishly. "It, uh, helps relax the goats."

"Right," Bill said slowly. "How about something a little more...dancy?"

"You can dance to bagpipes," Ben pointed out. "The Scottish do."

"Oh, play some ABBA!" Bev suggested. Mike pointed at her in agreement and got to work making his playlist. Soon enough, "Waterloo" began playing and everyone cheered. 

Over the sound of the music, Bill heard the door upstairs open and shut, followed by the sound of bickering. _Looks like the lovebirds have arrived_ , he thought. Richie and Eddie came rushing down the stairs, each carrying two pizzas, not stopping their bickering for even a second.

"If we had just left when I had said we should, we wouldn't be the last ones to arrive. Like always."

"Oh, please," Richie told him. "The party doesn't start until I walk in. Is this ABBA? You're really playing my song without me, Mikey? The betrayal."

The two of them dropped their pizzas on the coffee table next to the alcohol. Bill jumped up excitedly and opened the box closest to him. He scowled at Richie. "Rich, this is Hawaiian. What did I tell you?"

Richie held up his hands in defense. "Hey, the Hawaiian's for me and Eds. I also got meat lovers, supreme, and cheese for those of you with no taste."

"I'm sorry, but pineapple just doesn't belong on pizza," Bill said, reaching for the supreme pizza. 

"If pineapple doesn't belong on pizza, then you don't belong in my heart, Big Bill. That's just the way it has to be."

"I can live with that," Bill said, his mouth full.

"Thank you, Richie," Ben said, grabbing a slice of meat lovers. 

"See? Someone appreciates me. You are very welcome, Ben." He glanced inside the liquor box. "Hell yeah. Smirnoff." He grabbed the entire bottle and a Coke before dropping down onto the loveseat with the Hawaiian box. Eddie dropped down next to him. 

"Did you not get plates?" Stan asked, staring disapprovingly down at the pizza.

"Don't need 'em," Richie said. "It's finger food."

"Come on, Stan, I'll get you one from upstairs," Bill told him, hopping back up from his spot between Bev and Mike on the couch. Stan followed him up the stairs into the kitchen. As he pulled the stack of paper plates down from the cupboard, he turned to Stan. "Hey, you don't plan on drinking tonight, right?"

"Right."

Bill fidgeted with his hands. "Can you make sure I don't say anything stupid around Beverly? I don't want anything to slip out and make things weird between us."

"Got it," Stan told him. "Already promised the same thing to Richie. Consider me the Stupid Moniter. Well, the Unusually Stupid Moniter, considering you two have enough of it as is."

Bill rolled his eyes but grinned. "Thanks, Stan," he said, patting his friend on the shoulder. "You're a really good friend." He felt tears in his eyes, though he wasn't completely sure why.

"You've already had a drink, haven't you?"

"May have taken a couple shots of the Jack Daniels, yeah," Bill admitted.

Stan took a deep breath. "This is going to be a long night."

Eddie was drunk. He may have started taking a sip of the Smirnoff whenever he thought about how close Richie was to him and how much he wanted to kiss him. This wasn't helped by the fact that Richie had been drinking out of the same bottle, which only made Eddie think about how Richie's lips had touched it and now _his_ were touching it...but he was fine. Totally, completely fine.

On second thought, Eddie just knew he was going to say something stupid that night. He didn't know what, and he didn't know when, but it was going to happen. He knew he shouldn't have drank (Drunk? Drunk.), was planning on not doing so. But then Richie had offered him the bottle and every rational thought immediately left his head. As it always did. Why did Richie have to have such an effect on him?

They were all currently dancing to songs from The Addams Family Musical soundtrack. Eddie and Bev were trying to teach everyone else the When You're an Addams dance, but considering how drunk they all were, it wasn't working well. Except for Stan, who was sober and had to watch the choreography every day. Ben also wasn't drinking, but he also wasn't much of a dancer.

They decided to call it quits when Richie tripped over his own feet and collapsed to the ground. Eddie dropped down next to him and they all slowly settled onto the floor in a misshapen circle. Eddie found himself laying his head on Richie's lap. Bev grabbed Mike's phone and turned the music down. 

"I have an idea," Bev said. "Let's play Full Disclosure. Nothing serious, just fun questions we all have to answer. I'll go first. What's your guy's favorite song in the musical?"

"Move Toward the Darkness," Richie said immediately. "Next question."

"I like Happy/Sad," Ben said. "It's just such a nice, sweet song about watching your kids grow up."

"Of course you would say that, you softie," Richie said, shoving him gently. 

"My favorite is Death is Just Around the Corner," Stan said. "I find it very relatable."

"Uh uh uh, Stanley," Richie scolded. "You owe me five dollars for that depressing remark."

"You heard him, Stan," Bill said. "It's the rules."

Stan groaned and reached into his pocket, throwing the bill at Richie. It made it halfway across the cycle before falling to the ground. Richie, who was restricted by Eddie's head laying in his lap, waved his hand at it. "I'll get it later."

Stan rolled his eyes. "Fine, I'll change my answer to One Normal Night because that is all I ever want when I'm with you guys." 

"Aw, Stan, you love us," Mike said.

"Might even say you're crazy about us," Bill added, a playful glint in his eyes.

"Crazier than...you?" Bev asked and they all laughed, much harder than the simple joke required due to the help of the alcohol. 

"I think it's funny," Richie began, "how Bill has to try to convince Bev that he's crazier than her. As if any of us doubted that."

"He also says that he's not impulsive or deranged," Stan added. "Which is the biggest lie in the whole musical. The musical about lying."

"Hey," Bill whined. 

"Yeah, guys," Bev said. She grinned. "It's called 'acting.'" They all laughed again. 

" _Et tu,_ Bev? You're my fiancee! This is a betrayal to rival Gomez' to Morticia!"

Eddie was starting to feel a little sleepy. It didn't help that Richie was running his fingers through Eddie's hair. Eddie didn't think he even knew he was doing it. It was the same way Eddie had just naturally laid his head in Richie's lap. It was instinct. Whatever the case, it felt so right to be there. There wasn't a single place he would rather be. 

He turned his face up towards Richie's, tapping Richie's face with his whole hand. Richie swatted it away, but when Eddie put it back, he didn't fight it. "Hey," he said softly. 

Richie looked down at him, an amused grin on his face. "What?"

Everyone else had gotten distracted by the fun new topic of roasting Bill, so they paid no attention to the two of them. "Hey," he said again. "I...have a full disclosure."

"Do you now?" Richie asked, the smile still on his face. It was so soft, so warm. God, Eddie wanted to kiss him. 

He sat up so he could speak better. He couldn't fight the smile on his face or the words that came out of his mouth. "I," he began in a bad imitation of Fester's voice, "am in love."

The smile on Richie's face wavered, but he played along. "Who is it, Fester?"

Eddie giggled. "The moon!" His giggle turned into full uncontrollable laughter, laying his forehead on Richie's shoulder.

Richie just stared at him. Eddie got a slight impression that he was annoyed, but he was too drunk to pay any attention to it. "Is _that_ what you wanted to tell me?"

Eddie calmed himself. "No, no. I'm kidding. I _am_ in love with someone."

Richie's voice came out scratchy. "Who?"

Eddie turned his face away. "I can't. It's too embarrassing."

"You're the one that brought it up!"

"Okay, fine. But you have to promise not to freak out. Okay? Promise me."

"I promise," Richie said, his face completely serious. Eddie held out his pinky and Richie rolled his eyes but linked his. "I _promise_ ," he repeated.

Eddie's mind was finally coming to its senses, but it was too late to turn back now. "It's you, Rich," he said softly. Richie's eyes widened. Eddie hurried on, not wanting to hear Richie's response. "I've been in love with you for _years_. You're the Dramamine to my nausea, the Salk vaccine to my polio. You make me feel better." Richie just stared at him. Eddie's heart was beating out of his chest and he felt like he was going to cry. "Oh, God, please say something, Richie."

Richie wasn't looking at him. "I...I don't... _shit_ , Eds." He ran his fingers through his hair and adjusted his glasses. " _Shit_ ," he repeated. "Years? You mean to tell me I've been stressing about you finding out about my feelings for you and all this time you've liked me _back_?"

"B-back?" Eddie asked in a small voice. His mind was racing. So much had happened all in the span of just a few minutes. He didn't know what to think. So he didn't. Instead, he grabbed Richie's face and kissed him.

Richie's entire body immediately went slack. Eddie pulled away quickly. "Oh...I, uh..."

"I'm so sorry," Richie said. "I've just been wanting you to do that for such a long time."

Eddie had just enough time to form a huge smile before Richie's lips were on his again. This time, they were both kissing, kissing each other. _Oh my God_ , Eddie thought. _I'm_ kissing Richie. _Richie's kissing_ me.

When they finally pulled away, simply for air and not because either of them wanted to, they were breathing heavily. They stared at each other for a few moments before being startled by a cheer off to the side. They both looked to see Stan, his hands in the air and a big smile on his face. 

"It's about _fucking time_!" he shouted. Everyone looked at him in shock. Eddie glanced at Richie, who was fighting a grin. "I have been waiting _years_ for you two idiots to get it together. _Years._ Do you know how _hard_ it is to listen to this dunce whine about how in love with you he is, not ever believing that his feelings for you are reciprocated? I've known for _three years._ Scratch that. I've known 'officially' for three years. I could see that you guys were in love with each other from the day you first met. I...I can't deal with this." He put his head in his hands. Mike patted his back soothingly. 

"Who knew all we needed was some alcohol and a little play about love?" Bev asked.

Richie stared at her. "Wait, you knew?"

"I think we all knew," Mike told them. "In our own ways. Not all of us were as...involved as others." He eyed Stan and Beverly. Beverly pursed her lips and looked away. 

"So _that's_ why you locked us in the wardrobe closet," Richie guessed. 

"Sorry," Bev said with a shrug. 

"I think we can forgive you," Eddie told her. He smiled up at Richie. "Worked out in the end."

Richie smiled back before jumping to his feet. "Alright. Time to get this relationship moving. Let's bone."

Eddie's heart skipped a beat. He raised his eyebrows at him, grabbing his hand and pulling him back down. " _Excuse_ you," he told him. "I expect you to buy me dinner first."

Richie gestured towards the empty pizza boxes. "I _did_ buy dinner!"

"A _proper_ dinner." Eddie paused, a smile appearing on his lips. "A date."

Richie grabbed his hand, but ruined it like always by blurting out, "Your mom doesn't make me take her on a date."

Eddie rolled his eyes as everyone groaned. Mike threw a gummy worm at Richie, who grabbed it off the floor and took a bite out of it. Eddie shivered. "Remind me why I like you?"

Richie grinned. "Cuz I'm crazier than you."

"That's for sure."

Richie frowned. "You're supposed to say it back."

"Can't say it if it isn't true."

Richie pouted.

"Ugh. Fine. I'm crazier than you."

Richie's smile returned and he kissed Eddie again. The memory of Richie eating candy off the floor melted away and Eddie hungrily returned the kiss. Okay, so maybe he was a little crazy. But, hey. It was worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was my favorite chapter to write so far. It was one of the first scenes I had planned when I got the idea to write this, so hopefully, you enjoyed it! Let me know what you think so far!


	5. Wanting and Wasting and Woe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secret relationships. Secret crushes. A not-so-secret opinion on high school theater by one Mrs. Sonia Kaspbrak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk why this chapter is so angsty. It's the only chapter that I didn't really have a plan for, so I guess this is what my brain does when on autopilot? Anyways, I wanted to get some Mike and Ben POVs in here somewhere, especially to get Ben's reaction over the casting. Plus, more Ezra! He's based on my set build instructor who adored me, so I thought I would translate that relationship to Ben because he deserves it.
> 
> Title from "Waiting", one of my favorite songs in the musical and the best one to sing (in my opinion). The most angst-filled song for the most angst-filled chapter.

**Tuesday, April 16, 2019: 9 days until opening night**

It was the second day of pre-tech week, and it was safe to say that everything was going as well as could be expected. Which is another way of saying everything was a disaster. 

Mike and the others had come in Sunday afternoon to block the various set pieces they would need to move, but you couldn't tell from an outside perspective that they had had any practice at this. Stan was working side by side with them, trying to help them figure out what was going where and who was moving what. Mike could tell he was seriously stressed out. It wasn't his fault; most of the kids working deck crew were underclassmen and this was their first show. Mike didn't know what happened to all the tech kids who he had worked with on the fall play. They just up and quit, to be replaced by a bunch of...well, Mike didn't want to be mean, but they weren't very good at their jobs. They were mainly focused on the scene where Gomez had a den he needed to be moved out, which came with a few different pieces. It was a big set, two walls on a platform that needed to be pushed by three people. Except, they kept getting it stuck in the curtains because the one in charge of holding them kept disappearing. Abby was calling out demands from where she stood in the pit, but he could barely hear her over the bickering of his crew. 

"Alright, you all take five," Abby called. "Let's work on the ancestors' entrance in One Normal Night. Stan, come here, please. I have some things I need you to get done. Crew, please talk things over. Assign roles. Figure it out. I'm begging you. Nine days until opening night, people! We need to step it up!"

Mike helped the others pull the den back into place and heaved a big sigh. This was going to be a long two weeks, but somehow not long enough. There was so much to get done and so little time to do it. He was beginning to feel as overwhelmed as Stan had been feeling for weeks now. There was a lot of pressure in putting on a show, making sure everything was perfect. And everything _had_ to be perfect. He hadn't done theater last year and his grandpa hadn't been able to make it to the fall play, so this was the first show his gramps was going to see. He already frowned on Mike doing this, taking time away from the farm and his chores. He wanted to show him how much this meant to him.

Just over a minute after running off to fetch errands for Abby, Stan returned, looking deeply unhappy. "Abby gave me a year's worth of tasks to do in the next two hours, and I just saw Richie and Eddie sneak onto the catwalk. Will you _please_ deal with them for me? I'm afraid if I do it, I will kill them."

Mike grimaced. "Yeah, no problem, Stan. I'm on it."

Mike had never been onto the catwalk before. It wasn't often they needed it for shows, and they weren't allowed up there without permission. He knew seniors got to go up there at the end of the year to sign the wall, but he never expected to go up there before then. The ladder to get up looked very rickety and steep. He took a deep breath. _I defeated a very powerful evil clown_ , he thought to himself. _I can handle a little heights._

After a bit of a struggle, he managed to climb his way to the top. _How did Richie Eddie manage that with their little noodle arms?_ he wondered. It was pitch black up here. He was about to pull out his phone to use the flashlight when he heard soft voices a few feet away.

"I didn't know until after the first time at Niebolt," Richie was saying. "Seeing you lying there, your arm broken, a fucking clown about to eat you. I don't know. I guess I just realized then that you might've been out of my life for good. I couldn't bear that thought. You mean too much to me. And then your mom took you away, and I-I panicked. I thought, 'I saved you from a killer clown and I was going to lose you to your _mother_?'"

"Is that why you beat up Bill?" _Beat up?_ Mike didn't exactly remember it like that.

Richie chuckled. "Yeah, I guess. I don't know. I blamed him for you getting hurt, for you being taken away from me. I was angry, and scared, and he was the easiest person to take it out on at the moment."

Mike could hear someone adjusting themselves, then Eddie hummed softly.

"What about you? How'd you figure out how I'm such a hunk?"

Mike couldn't see, but he imagined Eddie rolling his eyes at that. "It was...gradual. I just thought about you all the time, always wondering what you were doing, what you would say in a certain situation, what you would think about what I was doing. Then one night, you had snuck into my room after my mom went to bed, and we were just laying there, not talking or sleeping. And I just remember thinking, 'I wish this was real.'"

"Well, now it is." Mike heard the sound of a short kiss. "I love you, Eds," Richie whispered.

"I love you, too, Rich." The kissing continued, this time longer and deeper. Mike quickly realized the situation was escalating and backed up, banging loudly into one of the railings that lined the catwalk. 

The two of them quickly moved away. "Who's there?" Richie asked, his voice heavy. Mike could hear the fear in it. 

He quickly turned on his flashlight and shined it on his own face. "It's me. Mike." Through the dim lighting, he could see Richie and Eddie, now pulled away from each other and sitting a few feet apart. Eddie had his legs pulled up to this chest, his face pale. Richie was in a squat position, looking like he was ready to bolt at a moment's notice. Mike could see them both visibly sigh in relief when they saw it was him. 

"Sorry to, uh, interrupt, but...you're needed on stage. Stan's kinda mad at you two for dipping in the middle of rehearsal the week before tech week. Um...I'll be down there. Come down when you're ready. But preferably soon. You know...Stan." He quickly hurried down the ladder. He had expected to find the two of them making out, not sharing intimate details on their feelings. It felt way more personal than just kissing. What had really gotten Mike's emotions stirring were the looks their faces when they'd realized they'd been caught. You could fight a killer clown, confess your love to your best friend. But nothing came close to the fear of being openly gay in high school.

"Benjamin Hanscom," a voice called out to him. Ben had been looking over the notes in his script of where the spotlight needed to be and when. He looked up to see Ezra walking up to him and lit up.

"Hey, Ezra. How's it going?"

"Fan- _tas_ -tic! Except one little problem. The measurements some imbecile made yesterday at set build for the railings are all off and I could use the hands of someone who knows what they're doing to help me fix it. Are you doing anything important?"

"Absolutely! I mean, no I'm not doing anything important, and I will _absolutely_ come help you."

"Perfect!" He immediately turned around and started walking quickly to the workshop. Ben scrambled to keep up. He led Ben to a stack of unevenly cut wood. "Okay, we need to go through these and find which are the desired forty-six inches, which can be _cut_ to forty-six inches, and which are just scrap wood now. I love teaching, but sometimes..." He blew out a big breath of air and shook his head.

Ben got the feeling. He loved his friends, but there were times when they were working on the clubhouse that he just wanted them all to just leave him to work alone. Well, not _all_ of them. He glanced at the entrance to the workshop for the hallway where Beverly was talking to one of the chorus members and laughing. She moved a strand of hair behind her ear, revealing the double helix piercings she had gotten for her sixteenth birthday. Ben thought it made her look so cool, even cooler than he already thought she was.

"That your girlfriend?" Ezra asked, nodding his head at Beverly.

Ben's face turned warm as he realized he had been caught staring. "Oh. No. We're just friends."

"Isn't she the girl who plays Wednesday Addams? Bethany?"

"Beverly," Ben corrected. 

"What, is she seeing someone else?"

"No. Well, she had a thing with Bill before she left for Portland a few years ago, but they seem to be just friends, too. I know he likes her, though. And I think she still likes him."

"Bill?" Ezra thought for a second. "The guy playing Lewis?"

"Lucas. But...yeah." 

"Well, damn. You have to watch the girl you love be in love with someone else on stage?"

"Yup," he said tightly.

"Well, does she know how you feel?"

"Yup," he repeated slowly. "I wrote her a poem the summer that they had their thing. She loved it, but she thought he wrote it. When she found out it was me, she seemed disappointed. She kissed him right before she left for Portland."

"Wow," Ezra said. 'That's harsh. But you're a great guy. Sweet, smart, good with your hands. You'll find a girl one day who will appreciate all of that, one who will choose _you_ , not some white trash hippy with a shiny new Camaro and the voice of an angel." He blinked, clearing his throat, then knelt back over the pice of wood he was measuring. 

Ben stared at him. "You alright, Ezra?"

"I'm okay," he said, not sounding okay.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"Nope. I wanna measure this wood. So you just...you go on measuring that wood, young Hanscom."

"Okay..." Ben said, unsure if he should just let it go or not. Ultimately he decided that he should, choosing instead to focus all of his attention on measuring out forty-six-inch pieces of wood. That was all he could do right now. One day, some girl would love him just as much as he loved her. But today was not that day. So he just measured. 

The drive home was quiet, just the sound of some vaguely familiar pop tune playing quietly on the radio. Eddie wanted to say something to break the silence, but he felt like if he did, he would disturb something not meant to be disturbed. Neither of them spoke until they were stopped in the driveway of Eddie's house. He cleared his throat. "You coming up tonight?" he asked hopefully.

"Yeah," Richie said playing with his keys. "As soon as my parents are in bed, I'll be right over." 

"Good." Eddie wanted to kiss him, but he saw his mother's outline in the window and knew she was watching. "I'll see you later then." He grabbed his backpack and hopped down from the car, taking one last look at Richie before entering his house.

"You're late," his mom said as soon as the door shut behind him. She gestured towards the clock on the kitchen stove that read 9:37. "I let you do this theater thing and you can't even have the decency to call when it gets out late. It can't be good for you, staying out all these late hours, doing all these dances. You could get hurt!"

"I'm fine, Mommy. Abby takes good care of us. She isn't going to let us get hurt."

"Well, does this 'Abby' care that you need good sleep in order to protect your immune system? You know you need seven to nine hours of sleep every night in order to stay healthy. They already make you wake at such ungodly hours for school. You need to make sure you are in bed at a decent time each night so that you don't get sick! I'm almost considering dropping this whole thing."

Eddie's heart skipped a beat. "Mom, please, no! The show is _next week_. I've been working so hard!"

"You've been working _too_ hard. You've been forgetting to take your medicine lately. I count them, you know, to make sure you remember. There's two more pills than there should be in each of your bottles. You've been forgetting, probably because you're too busy off dancing and singing with the little theater freaks!"

He realized he _had_ been forgetting to take his medicine, but it wasn't because of theater. It was because these last couple of days he had started leaving earlier for school to be with Richie and would be in such a hurry to see him that he would forget. Not that he would ever tell his mother that, though. As much as she hated him being in theater, the idea that he was dating a boy, dating _Richie?_ That would surely put her in her deathbed for good. "I'm sorry, Mommy. I've been a little sidetracked recently. I'll make sure to remember from now on. Please don't make me quit theater. It's my favorite part of the day!"

His mom looked hurt. "More than spending time with your _mother_?"

He flinched, realizing his mistake. "No! Of course not!"

"Really?" she asked, staring him down. "Because if you really loved me, you wouldn't want to spend so much time away from me."

"Please, Mommy. They're my friends. It's only for two more weeks."

"We'll talk about this more tomorrow after school. Go get some sleep."

"But I have pla-"

"Now!" she yelled, gesturing towards the staircase. Eddie quickly hurried up them and into his room, careful not to slam the door no matter how much he wanted to. She was so unreasonable. He knew he would never be able to get through to her, no matter how hard he tried. He was going to waste his Wednesday afternoon being lectured by her about all the dangers in the world of high school theater. Meaning he was going to miss out on spending that time with Richie. They had planned on having a picnic at the clubhouse, just the two of them. There weren't many places they could go on dates, but they were making it work. Trying to, at least. It was hard enough keeping their relationship a secret without his mother forcing him to cancel.

He glanced at the alarm clock by his bed; it was only 9:41. Richie's parents usually weren't settled into bed until around 10:30, and then he would still need to drive back here. Eddie decided to kill a little bit of time by showering and getting dressed for bed. When he got out, it was only 10:02, so he climbed into bed to wait. 

His phone lock screen was a picture of all the Losers together when they went to the ocean that summer, but when he unlocked his phone, it was a picture of him and Richie that he had taken last night. Richie had fallen asleep first, and Eddie took the opportunity to capture the moment so he could look at it whenever. It was still risky making it his home screen because his mother had access to his phone, but he wanted somewhere they could be together, be a real couple. 

They had talked it over on Sunday and agreed that neither one of them was ready to officially come out, to their parents or to the school. The only time they could really be together was when they were alone, or with the Losers Club. Eddie knew it was for the best; his mother would never be okay with Eddie dating a boy, and it was already bad enough at school in Derry when people just _thought_ you were gay. There was no way they'd survive until graduation if anyone knew about them. Besides, there were only two more years left of high school, and then they could move to New York, or some other big city where they could blend in. Maybe what happened to Bev was a fluke. Or maybe it wouldn't happen if they stayed together. Or maybe...Eddie fell asleep thinking about all the maybes. 

He woke up to the sound of his window opening. He always left it open just a crack, just enough for Richie to get in but not enough that his mother would notice. Groggily, he looked at his clock and saw that it was just after midnight.

"You're late," he whispered, his voice hoarse with sleep. 

"I know. I'm sorry." Richie slid off his shoes and climbed into bed with Eddie. "My mom watched this scary movie and was having trouble getting to sleep, so I couldn't get out without her noticing." Richie looked at him in the dim lighting from the street lamp outside, a concerned look on his face. "Were you crying?" he asked, caressing Eddie's face. 

Eddie turned his face away, wiping at his eyes. "Oh, um. Bad dream."

"Hey," he said, gently turning Eddie's head to face him. "You're not crying because of me, are you?"

"No," Eddie replied, and just thinking about crying made him start crying harder. "It's my mom. She wants me to quit theater. I told her I wouldn't but..."

"Hey, it's okay." Richie pressed Eddie's head to his chest and slowly ran his fingers through his hair. 

Eddie sniffled. "No, it's not. She says we're going to talk more about it tomorrow. I can't win against her. She has too much control over me. I don't wanna quit theater!"

"And you don't have to. I'll fight her if I need to." Eddie laughed softly and Richie took that as encouragement. "Really, I could take her. Sure, she outweighs me, and I don't have much for muscles. But what I lack in ability, I make up for in passion."

Eddie pulled back so Richie could see him roll his eyes. "You're so stupid."

"And that's why you love me."

Eddie smiled. "I don't know if that's the _reason_ ," he said, pressing a kiss to Richie's neck. "More like _despite_." Richie tilted Eddie's chin up to plant a kiss on his lips. Eddie moaned. " _That's_ the reason," he whispered against Richie's lips. 

Richie smiled. "Because I'm a good kisser?"

Eddie shook his head slowly. "No. Because you always make me feel better. The Dramamine to my nausea, remember?" He gave him a short, quick kiss. " _That's_ why I love you." He ran his lips across Richie's just enough to send a shiver down the other boy's spine. When Richie tried to kiss him, he pulled back with a sly grin. "And what do you say to that?" he whispered.

Richie groaned. "I love you, too. God, I love you so much. I can't believe this is real. I feel like any second I'm going to wake up and this was all a dream. A really, _really_ good dream." He leaned forward and this time, Eddie met his lips, kissing him so hungrily that he was almost embarrassed. But Richie returned the kiss with just as much intensity and he knew he wasn't alone in this feeling. He pressed him closer to him, closer and closer. He couldn't seem to get close enough. He wanted more. He reached down to grab Richie's belt buckle.

Richie's hand immediately grabbed onto Eddie's, holding him back. He pulled away from the kiss, breathing heavily but keeping their faces only an inch apart. "I want to. You have no idea how much I want to. But I'm not losing my virginity with your mom right downstairs. She already hates me enough without walking in on me defiling her son."

There were many thoughts racing through Eddie's mind at that moment, but the one that stuck out was, "Wait, you're a virgin?"

Richie laughed. "Does that really surprise you? What, you think I actually have slept with everyone in our friend group's mother figures? I don't know if you've noticed, Eds, but I don't exactly have girls lining up at my door for a chance to fuck me. Or boys, for that matter. Not that I'd want to. There's only one person in the world I'd want to do that with and he's right in front of me. I just...not now. Definitely sometime, sometime soon if we're lucky, but not now. I...I want it to be perfect." He chuckled nervously.

"Who knew you were such a romantic, Trashmouth."

"Believe me. It's a surprise to us both." He pressed a kiss to Eddie's lips, then to his forehead. "It's late. We should get some sleep."

Eddie pouted, but let Richie pull him down to the bed and put his arms around him. He could barely remember what he had even been so upset about. Barely.


	6. Face Your Demons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie and Richie have conversations with their mothers, with varying levels of success.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not super happy with this chapter, but if I keep looking at it, it will never be posted. And I intend to finish this story. Enjoy!
> 
> Chapter title from Full Disclosure.

**Wednesday, April 17, 2019: 8 days until opening night**

"She's going to kill me," Eddie said plainly. "She is going to kill me."

"She is not going to kill you," Richie told him. They were sitting in from of the office at school, waiting for more of the other students to leave so there wouldn't be as much of a hassle to get out. Usually, they would wait by the auditorium or in the band hallway, but Eddie was vehemently against that at the moment.

"She _is_ going to kill me," Eddie argued. "And if _she_ doesn't kill me for refusing to quit the musical, then _Abby_ is going to kill me for quitting eight days before opening night."

"There does not need to be any killing involved in either scenario. Just tell your mom that you won't quit the musical and that there's nothing she can do about it."

Eddie scoffed. "Yeah, easy for you to say. Your mom likes you to be involved in after school activities. My mom thinks my desire to is an act of war against her. We are not the same."

"She's let you come this far. Is she really going to screw over an entire theater department just because she's way overprotective of you?"

Eddie stared at him. "You _have_ met my mother, right? She would screw over an entire _country_ if it meant not losing control over me. She doesn't see reason. She only sees what she wants. And what she wants is for me to not be gone four hours a day for rehearsals." His face turned into one of horror. "I'm never going to leave this town. It won't matter if we lose our memories when we leave, because I never will. I am going to be stuck here until the day that I die, and then I will be buried here."

"Don't be ridiculous," Richie said. "You're free when _she_ dies." Eddie glared up at him. Alright, so not the right thing to say. He tried again. "What I mean to say is she can't have control over you forever. You might still be a kid, but you have, like, rights and...shit."

"I have rights and shit?" Eddie repeated.

Richie shrugged. "I'm trying to tell you to stand up for yourself. I hate seeing the way she makes you. She's an overprotective, manipulative liar and you deserve better."

"Not everyone can have Maggie Tozier as a mom."

Richie smiled. "Yeah, she is pretty great, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't strive for better. What would Wednesday Addams do?"

Eddie looked at him. "Doesn't she spend the whole of Act I hiding the fact that she's engaged from her mother because she's afraid of how her mother would react?"

Richie grimaced. "Okay...what would Act II Wednesday do?"

"Didn't she try to run aw-"

"Okay, so Wednesday isn't the best role model." He paused, thinking for a minute. "Ah! Which is exactly why you _shouldn't_ do what she did. That's good, yeah, that's the lesson I was going to give. You can't keep hiding secrets from your mother because she _will_ find out eventually and then end up singing a song about dying and then run away."

"My mother _is_ the level of dramatic of singing "Death is Just Around the Corner" at the slightest inconvenience," Eddie mused. "God, how does my life relate so much to the Addams Family Musical? I mean, secret boyfriend that I can't tell my mother about because she will flip out?"

Richie found himself looking around quickly to make sure no one overheard the "boyfriend" part, but everyone around was out of hearing range. "Definitely not saying you should tell your mother about us," he said slowly, "because she will not be happy about that, even worse than Morticia was unhappy about Lucas. _But_ you should still tell her about the musical. You should even invite her. Maybe she'll learn a few lessons on how to be a loving and caring parent who doesn't overreact about things as simple yet important as love?"

"Oh God," Eddie said. "If simply wanting to be _in_ the musical is a war threat, then insinuating that the musical is _about_ her would be a death wish. I may get to be in the show, but she will still literally kill me."

"Make sure it's the third night, then, so you don't mess up the show." Eddie punched him in the shoulder.

After dropping Eddie off at home, Richie went back home to await the results. When he entered, his mother was in the kitchen baking something. He dropped his backpack in the living room and hopped up on a free counter to watch.

"I'd tell you to get down from there, but I know you wouldn't listen," she said without looking up.

"And that's why we work so well," he told her with a grin. "What're you making?"

"I found this recipe online for vegan, gluten-free brownies. I figured I could make them for your opening night. You know artists and their dietary restrictions. I wanted to practice and make sure I got the recipe right. Come try."

Richie hopped down from the counter and eagerly took the spoon she offered him. He stuck it in his mouth and...immediately spit it back out.

"What's wrong?" Maggie asked.

"It needs more..."

"What? Vanilla? Coconut oil?"

"...flavor," Richie finished. 

Maggie gave him a disapproving look. "Richie, that's not proper feedback. Does it need more cocoa powder? Chocolate chips? Sugar?"

"I don't know, Mom. You're the baker. My taste buds aren't as refined as yours are."

She gave a satisfied nod. "Alright, you are forgiven. How was school today?"

"It was...school," he said. He had a small argument inside his head about what to say next. "I did have an interesting conversation with Eddie that got me thinking about something, though."

"Oh?" Maggie said, licking the excess chocolate off her fingers. "Oh. Yeah, you're right. Needs more flavor."

"I told you!" 

"Sorry, honey. What were you saying?"

Richie cleared his throat. "Well...we were talking about the musical. And the plot of the musical is that Wednesday is keeping a secret from her mom, and everything kind of goes to shit because of that."

"Language," Maggie reminded him.

"Shit. Sorry." Richie winced but carried on. "Anyways, you know, the whole message is that you, like, shouldn't keep secrets from the people you care about cuz it can blow up in your face and that it's better to just tell people or risk them finding out that you kept it a secret and hating you."

"Oh, sweetie, I would never hate you if that's what you're trying to say. But is there something you're keeping from me?" Her eyes widened. "Oh God. You didn't get a girl pregnant did you?"

Richie laughed. "No. Oh my God, no. And it's actually something you won't have to worry about, haha." He cleared his throat again and Maggie looked at him, confused but patient. "What I'm trying to say is that...that...oh God, why is this so hard?" He laughed again, this time a deeply uncomfortable one. 

"Richie, just tell me. You're worrying me. Is something wr-"

"I'm gay," he finally spat out. 

Maggie blinked at him. "Oh. _Oh._ For a minute there, I thought you were going to tell me you committed a crime or got a tattoo." She paused. "You didn't get a tattoo, did you?"

Richie laughed nervously. "Nope. Just...like boys." 

'Oh, well, _sweetie._ " She grabbed Richie and pulled him into a hug. "I can't believe you would think I would hate you for that. You are my _son._ I love you no matter what. Even if you _had_ gotten a tattoo." She pulled back to look him the eye. "Though I'd rather you not. You are beautiful just the way you are and you don't need to alter your physical appearance in any way."

"Well there go my plans to get a tattoo across my forehead that says 'cocksucker.'"

Maggie frowned at him. "Now, your language I _do_ have a problem with. You need to work on that. It's not appropriate."

"Sorry, Mom," he muttered.

"But being gay...honey, why would you think I would have a problem with that?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. You've been in this town longer than I have. You must have seen the way people act."

"I've always known small towns have a lot of small-minded people. If I had known that it were hurting you, I would have convinced your father to move us away _years_ ago."

"No!" Richie said quickly. "I don't regret it. Yeah, I would have liked to not have been so afraid all the time, but I don't regret staying. I wouldn't have met the Losers Club. Stanley, Bill, Bev." He paused before adding, "Eddie..."

A small smile tugged at Maggie's lips. "So that's what this about, huh? You finally tell him how you feel?"

Richie stared at her. "You _knew?_ "

"I suspected. You two were always so close. But am I right?"

Richie grinned. "I told him on Friday. Well, he told me first. But, yeah, Mom. You were right."

She clapped her hands excitedly. "So when's he coming over for dinner? I need to be reintroduced to him as your boyfriend. I know your schedule is crazy with the show coming up, but we can do this weekend? Or maybe we should wait until after the show's over, so you boys can just relax. What are his dietary restrictions again? I need to get planning."

"Mom," he interrupted, grabbing her hands. "You need to relax. I don't even know if he's comfortable with that yet. I only planned on coming out to you, not bringing him into this. We just want to take things slow."

"Slow. Yeah, I can do slow. Slow is good. Yes, you should be taking things slow. _Very_ slow, you hear? Nothing below the waist."

" _Mom_."

"I know you think you're all grown up, but sex is a very big deal and I don't want you taking things farther than either of you are comfortable with. It's not something you can just take back."

Richie put his head in his hands and screamed. "I'm going to my room," he said and ran off before she could say anything more.

"That is my final offer," Eddie's mom told him, staring him down, daring him to challenge her.

"You can't keep me a prisoner forever," he said, trying to keep his voice steady.

"I can try."

He ran up to his room before she could see the tears in his eyes. This time, he slammed the door. He immediately pulled out his phone to call Richie.

"Hey, how'd it go?" Richie said as soon as he answered.

"Good news," Eddie said, but his voice was flat. "I can stay in the musical."

"That's great! That's awesome! Why do you sound upset?"

Eddie fought back the tears in his eyes. "Because I had to make a choice. Quit the play or..."

"Or what?"

"Or _only_ do the play. I can go to school, I can go to rehearsal, but nothing else."

It took a moment for Richie to respond, as if he was trying to process this. "What do you mean 'nothing else'?"

"I mean, I can't do anything else. I have to come straight home from school, straight home from rehearsal. Nothing. Else."

"W-what does that mean for us? When am I supposed to see you?"

"You'll still see me at school and during rehearsal."

"That's not the same and you know it." Eddie could tell Richie was trying to keep his voice calm, but he could still hear the anger in it. Eddie didn't blame him. He was furious. He knew his mother was unreasonable, but he had hoped that just this once he could finally get his way.

"I know," he said. "I know. I'm sorry."

"What about at night? I can still see you then, right?"

Eddie glanced at his bedroom window, at the lock his mom had installed on it while he was away at school. "No. You can't. She's keeping me locked up like fucking Rapunzel, Rich. I don't know what to do."

"We'll figure something out. We've faced bigger demons than this and came out on top. We'll think of something."

"What, Rich? What am I supposed to do? Run away? I'm fifteen years old. I wouldn't last a year." He paused, trying everything he could to calm himself down. "You didn't see her, Richie. It wasn't like usual. She wasn't even trying to sound like a sweet, caring mother. She's-"

"Eddie!" his mom called from downstairs. He heard the steps creak as she began to walk up them. 

"I have to go. My mom is coming to take my phone. It's part of the rules."

"But-"

"I'll see you tonight." He hung up quickly, staring one last time at his home screen before changing it to one of the generic ones that come with the phone. He hesitated, then changed the passcode, too. It wouldn't be enough to stop her, but hopefully, it would keep her from looking through his phone while he was away. There were certain things on there that he never wanted her to see. If she was angry now, she would be so much worse if she found out the secrets he was hiding from her. Morticia had nothing on Sonia Kaspbrak when it came to drama.

"You came out to your mom last night?" Stan asked.

Richie shushed him, glancing around at the other students, but luckily they didn't seem to hear. "I came out to my mom, not the entire Derry High theater department, Stanley."

"Sorry," he whispered. "But this is a big deal! Now you have another place you can be yourself at. What did Eddie say when you told him?

Richie looked away. "I didn't."

"What do you mean? You didn't tell him? Why not?"

"Cuz he's dealing with so much right now. His mom isn't letting him leave the house except for school and rehearsals. She won't even let me drive him so that we can have just a few moments alone together. He already knows how great my mom is compared to his. I feel like telling him this would just be, like, rubbing it in his face, you know?"

"I get it," Stan told him. "But the whole point in telling your mom was to stop keeping secrets from the people you love, right? So how is not telling Eddie any different?"

"Because sometimes secrets need to be kept. Eddie doesn't need to know about this. It won't do him, or me, or _anyone_ any good. It'll just dig the knife in deeper that my mom is okay with me being gay while his won't even let him be his own person." He sighed. "It's not fair. If I had to trade in having my mom be not homophobic in order to make Eddie's mom less of a wack job, I would it in a heartbeat."

"Don't say that. We can figure out a plan to get him out. I could try talking to her? I am her favorite, after all."

"Are you really bragging about being a crazy lady's favorite right now?"

"Of course not," he lied. Hey, being the favorite was being the favorite. "Look. He was able to stand up to her before. All we need is some incentive."

Richie stared at him. "The last time he had 'incentive', Beverly was kidnapped by a demon clown."

"Well, maybe we should-"

"We are _not_ kidnapping Beverly, Stanley!" A couple of the kids nearby gave them odd looks. "Besides, even _that_ wasn't enough to make it last. She'll always have control over him. There's nothing we can do. If you can somehow come up with some grand speech to convince Mrs. K to not hold Eddie prisoner for the rest of his life, then I'm all for it. Until then, we have to make the most of what we have. Now if you would excuse me, I'm going to go spend the only precious moments I have left with my boyfriend before he's forced to go back to Hell."

Stan leaned against the stage, already thinking up a plan. If he could get two oblivious losers to admit their feelings for each other after eight years of pining, he could do anything. 


	7. Air in the Love-Starved Lungs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A week before opening night, new developments to the show lead to new developments in the lives of the Losers Club.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from: Let's Not Talk About Anything Else But Love, soundtrack version. We didn't do the full version of this song in our show, but it's too bad because there are so many great lines in it. Would make for a great love song without all of Mal's negativity...
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

**Thursday, April 18, 2019: 7 days until opening night**

"Today is a big day!" Abby began. Everyone was sitting on the stage, murmuring to each other excitedly. "One more week before opening night, five days until the pre-show performance in front of your peers, and we still have a lot of work to do. We are starting a little bit earlier today because we are going to be doing a full run-through in wardrobe, so I wanted to give you time to get dressed. No makeup today, just clothes. We need to make sure you are able to move well in them. If your costumes are still being modified, put on as much as you can. We will have them to you as soon as possible. Deck crew, we have a few tasks for you to do while you are waiting. Ben, Emma, I need to go over some notes about lighting with you two. And, Bev, Bill, come see me before you get dressed. Okay! Everyone, move out!"

"What do you think she wants us for?" Bev asked Bill as they pulled themselves up from where they were sitting.

"Maybe she wants to tell us how good we've been doing?" he suggested.

Bev scoffed. "Since when have you known Abby to just give a compliment? Anytime she says something nice, it's sandwiched between two things we're doing wrong."

Abby was talking quietly with Stan when they arrived but stopped immediately when she saw them, to Stan's displeasure. "Great! You two. You both know that opening night is a week from today."

"Of course," Bev said with a smile. "We're both really excited."

"Good. Because we need to step everything up. Meaning you two need to start doing the actual kissing." Bill's heart skipped a beat. "I know it's uncomfortable, but it's all part of the show and it's going to look so good to the audience. It's a stage kiss, not a make out, so closed mouths, okay? Make sure to go back over your scripts so you know where they happen. Good?"

Bev smiled again, but this one seemed more forced. "All good. We are professionals, right, Bill?"

"Right..."

"Great! Now go get dressed and mic'd. We're starting in twenty minutes!" She turned back to Stan, who was waiting patiently for her to finish. Bev waved to Bill and hurried to catch up with some chorus members. Bill stood frozen where he was. "Stan, you are an _assistant_ stage manager. I am not dropping Tracy a week before the show. She is graduating next month, so you will have your time to shine next year. As long as you don't annoy me too much before then. Now, go get the mics ready." She hurried off before Stan could say anything.

"You alright, Bill?" Stan asked him. 

"Totally," he replied, voice strained.

"Nervous about the kiss?"

"Not at all. Like, Bev said, we're professionals."

"Then why are you still here?"

Bill looked up at him finally. "Yeah, okay, little worried. This is the first time I will have kissed her in _three years_. Now that I think about it, I haven't kissed _anyone_ in the last three years. What if I've gotten bad at it? What if I was never good? Maybe that's why she wants nothing to do with me now. Maybe she _does_ remember the kiss, but it was so bad she's just p-pretending it never happened. And now my stutter is b-back..."

Stan put his hand on Bill's arm. "It's a _stage kiss_ , Bill. It's impossible not to be good at it. Besides, you kissed her when you were nine and she still kissed you back when you were thirteen. You just need to relax. If it goes well, boom, you have a new girlfriend. If it goes bad..." He paused. "Well, there are only nine more days of this." He patted his shoulder and wandered off to the electrical closet to get the mics. 

Bill buried his head in his hands.

"Places, people!" Stan called out from the hallway outside the dressing rooms. "We are starting in five minutes. I repeat. Five minutes!"

Eddie stared at himself in the mirror. It was the first time he had put on his full costume and he was feeling a little bit overwhelmed. Abby and Beverly, after taking stock of what they had, had decided to make him the cowboy ancestor. He was a little embarrassed to admit it now, but he had kind of had a thing for cowboys when he was younger. His mom liked to watch old tv shows and he had had a tiny crush on Clint Walker in _Cheyenne_. Now _he_ got to be the cowboy. 

He hated the hat, though. It blocked his peripheral vision and he just knew that it would make it harder to see while he was dancing. Considering he had already gotten injured once without it, wearing the hat could be fatal. But he would do anything for the sake of the show. 

He turned towards to door and screeched when he saw Richie standing there watching him, in full Lurch costume and makeup, face completely blank. He broke when Eddie screamed, doubled over laughing. "You should have seen your face!"

"I thought we weren't doing makeup today," Eddie said with a scowl. 

Richie shrugged. "Claire wanted to try something out and it didn't take me long to get dressed." He looked down at his shoes. "I know I only joined because you wanted to and I only got Lurch because I'm freakishly tall, but I'm actually really excited about this."

Eddie smiled. "Good. I'm glad."

"And I know things are...difficult right now," he said, looking around to make sure the coast was clear, "but I'm glad you didn't have to quit the show. It wouldn't be the same without you."

"There's still time for my mother to change her mind."

"Everything will be fine." He looked like he was going to say something else, but Stan barged into the room. 

"Richie!" he yelled. "Mic check!"

"What'd Mike do?" he asked, a confused look on his face.

Eddie rolled his eyes. "Mic _rophone_ , Richie."

"Ohhh."

"If we start late, I am going to kill you," Stan told him, grabbing his arm. "Eddie, to the crypt!"

"Break a leg!" Eddie shouted to Richie as Stan dragged him out of the room. He grabbed his hat and followed them, entering backstage just as Ben and Mike were finishing up putting a mic on one of the chorus dancers who got a solo. 

"Looking good, Eddie!" Mike said when he saw him. The chorus dancer left to do her mic check, so Eddie stopped for a quick hello. 

"I've always wanted to be a cowboy," Eddie told them.

Ben looked around before whispering, "Did you know a lot of cowboys were gay men?"

Eddie smiled. "Really? Maybe that's why they always appealed to me."

"They were also mainly black and Latino men," Mike added. "But we'll push that aside for now."

"Places, people!" Abby shouted from the audience. "I see Emma up there, but where's Ben?"

Ben grimaced. "Gotta go! Break a leg!" 

"You, too!" Eddie whispered back. He waved to Mike and hurried to the hallway with the other ancestors.

"Sorry, Abby," Ben was saying as he hurried down the stage. "Was just finishing up with mics."

"That's alright, Ben," she told him sweetly. She was always so much nicer to him than she was with Eddie. _Wonder why that is_ , Eddie thought with a grin, remembering all the times he was late, or all the times he had screwed around with Richie during rehearsal. "Is everybody all set? Good. Let's get started! Ancestors, remember your character walks!" 

A recording of the Overture began to play. They weren't getting the orchestra at their rehearsals until next week. He knew it wasn't a real performance, just a run-through, but his heart was beating. It was their first attempt at a full run-through, and their first time doing the show in costume. It really solidified in his mind the fact that the show was in a week from today.

"Time to wake the dead!" Gomez called out. 

Eddie's character walk was to just look tough. Cowboys in all the Westerns always were super tough-looking, so Eddie tried to mirror that. Richie had said that he looked like a six-year-old having a tantrum, but Eddie had ignored him.

Halfway through the dance, the recording started skipping. Everyone slowly stopped moving, looking around in confusion. 

"Alright, everyone, just stay there!" Abby yelled, rushing over to the stereo she was using. "Stanley!" Stanley appeared from stage left, running down to help her. Eddie took this time to look behind him to where Richie stood. Richie, upon sensing Eddie's eyes on him, walked over. 

"Is it just me," he said in a hushed voice, "or has Abby successfully made Stanley her bitch?"

Eddie snorted. "Oh, yeah, definitely. Isn't that the job description of a stage manager?"

"She's not like this with Tracy."

"That's because Tracy doesn't do shit."

Richie raised his eyebrows. "And it appears Stanley has made you _his_ bitch."

Eddie rolled his eyes. "Well, you're _mine_ so..."

Richie scoffed. "Bullshit. I am _no one's_ bitch."

"Keep telling yourself that." Eddie took his hat off and put it on Richie's head, covering most of his face.

"Ah, not the makeup, Eds." He adjusted the hat so it was on top of his head now. "Looks better on me, anyways."

"We're back on!" Abby called. "I'm going to rewind a bit and then go from where we were! Just...try your best to catch up! We need to get moving if we want to get through the whole show tonight!"

Eddie reached for his hat, but Richie stepped back with a grin. "My hat now," Richie told him. Eddie sighed, getting back into formation just as the song started playing. Everyone shuffled awkwardly to get to the right part of the dance, but soon enough, they were gliding by perfectly. Well, as perfectly as can be expected from an amateur group of high school theater nerds.

Abby stopped it at the end of the song, presumably because Richie's Lurch moan at the end brought attention to his costume change. "When did Lurch get that hat?" She eyed Eddie, who looked away, trying not to laugh. 

"I like the added splash of color to Lurch's look," Richie told her.

Abby stared at them, her hands covering her mouth. She was silent for many moments, and Eddie winced as he waited for her to yell at the two of them. "I kind of like it," she finally said.

"Y-you do?" Eddie asked.

Abby nodded. "It's a little bit of character that isn't too much of a distraction to the audience. I mean, I didn't even notice until the end, and I've seen this show a thousand times. An ancestor putting his hat on Lurch. It's something very playful...flirtatious even."

Eddie squeaked. "I don't think-"

"Yes," Abby interrupted. "This is exactly what I was saying about bringing your characters to life, people! A flirtation between Lurch and the cowboy ancestor. I love it! When Lurch flirts with Alice, that's unexpected, comedic, but it's a one-time thing. To have him flirt with an ancestor...that makes it a character trait. It's perfect! Eddie, do you think you can do the hat transition smoothly while moving?"

"I...I can try?"

"Great! You just need to keep this up throughout the show, make it a thing. Winking, longing eyes. Nothing too distracting that it takes away from the show, but enough to add a little...flavor. Do some improv during the act and then the two of you come talk to me during intermission. This will really make our show stand out. This is what you all should be thinking about with your characters. Not just dressing like them, but _being_ them. Nice work, you two."

Eddie had no idea what to say. What had been a stupid little joke during a temporary pause in rehearsal had turned into Abby finally noticing him for more than just the chorus member who was always late and screwing around during rehearsal. He saw a couple of ancestors eyeing him jealously, but the girl next to him, a flower child from the 60s, nudged him and gave him a thumbs up.

"Take it from the top of When You're an Addams. I want you guys to get used to not stopping during the show. Hopefully, the stereo can keep up with you until the band arrives next week."

Everyone began shuffling toward their opening marks. Eddie looked around and met Richie's eyes, grinning wide. Richie tossed the hat back to him, then shot finger guns at him and winked as he joined the main cast in stage left.

Eddie was so glad he didn't leave the musical.

Beverly could tell just by looking at him that Bill was doing everything he could to keep his stutter away. She had thought they had finally gotten rid of it, but something seemed to be bothering him. Even though she knew better, she hoped it had nothing to do with her.

After their first scene together, they had only a short time before going back on, so she didn't have time to bring it up, but in their next scene, his stutter came back. 

"'You realize they're gonna freak when we t-t-tell them,'" he said. Her back was turned to him during this part, but she could feel his body tense behind her. She winced.

Considering this was a practice show, she carried on with the scene, but she wasn't going to let this go. "'My father won't.'"

"'Why n-not?'"

"'Cuz I already told him.'" She finally was able to turn to him and realized that his face was paler than usual. Luckily, her character was nervous during this part, so she could hide her own worried expression. 

"'W-w-what?'" He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He spoke his next lines very slowly. It was a technique he had used in the past to remove his stutter. In everyday speech, it was a mildly irritating quirk, but in theater it could really turn out badly. Bev expected Abby to stop them, to notice something was wrong, but she didn't. The show must go on. Bev began speaking her lines slower to match up with Bill. It wasn't perfect, but at least they were in sync. Soon enough, Bill began speaking at a normal pace. They quickly finished the scene and walked off the stage. 

As soon as they were in the hallway, she grabbed his arm and dragged him in the direction of the academic part of the building, out of range for the mics to pick up their voices. 

"What's going on with you today?" she asked him.

"What do you m-mean?" he asked, then winced "Okay, I see what you mean. I don't know. I'm just having an off day. That's normal, right?"

"But you've been doing so good! What changed?"

"I'm just having an off day, okay?" he said tensely, turning away from her.

She stared after him. "Is it something I did?"

He whirled around. "No! Of course not! You're perfect." He cleared his throat. "You...you did perfectly. Like always. You're a great actress. I'm just...I'm having trouble keeping my personal life out of it."

"What are you talking about?" She laid her hand on his shoulder. He stiffened. She dropped it. "Is it...is it something with your parents? Have they been fighting again?"

"No. Well, yes, but that's not what this is about."

"Then _what_?"

"I-"

Laughter coming from down the hallway distracted them. They looked over to see Richie and Eddie screwing around with each other. Richie was wearing Eddie's hat again, despite giving it back after the When You're an Addams scene. They stopped short when they saw Bev and Bill standing there.

"Oh," Eddie said. "Hey there, guys. What are you doing over here?"

"Nothing," Bill told him. He turned to Bev. "We should get going. Our next scene is coming up soon."

"Yeah..." Bev followed him down the hallway. She heard Richie and Eddie laughing again behind her and turned back just in time to see them disappear into the bathroom. Richie had told them all what had happened between Eddie and his mom, so she figured they were using up as much time together as they could. She was going to have to figure out a plan to remedy that situation. Love like that shouldn't be reduced to bathroom make-out sessions.

They returned in time to watch the second half of "Secrets" and got in position to walk out for the next scene. She wanted to continue their conversation once they stepped off after the scene, but Bill immediately went backstage to talk to Mike. The next scene they had together, after this one, was the scene where they were supposed to kiss. Bev had a slight suspicion that that might have something to do with it. Yeah, it was uncomfortable having to kiss a friend, to kiss _anyone_ during a play, but they'd done it before, back in the third grade. Was it really such a big deal? Unless...unless he felt the same way that she did about it. Sure, it was just a stage kiss, but she got butterflies in her stomach at the thought of kissing Bill. Yeah, she had had a crush on him back in middle school, and yeah, maybe that crush hadn't exactly gone away. But Bill didn't return those feelings, right? He hadn't made any move to take things any further between them when she got back, so she figured their flirting with each other that one summer was in the past. He had moved on. Of course, there was always that conversation in the car last week that hadn't exactly felt like it was about what it was about. Was that what had Bill so nervous?

She could hear Gomez' singing his version of "What If" and knew that their scene was coming up. She exchanged a look with Bill and they made their way to the edge of the stage to prepare. The rest of the cast and crew huddled around the curtains on both sides, also preparing for this scene. For some reason, everyone always got really excited when there was a kiss scene for the first time. Bev would have rolled her eyes if she wasn't so nervous.

"You ready?" she asked in a hushed voice, low enough that the mic wouldn't pick it up. 

"Sure," he said, sounding very unsure. That confirmed Beverly's thoughts. He was nervous, too. That actually reassured her. They were on the exact same page here, right?

As soon as the lights came back on, they walked out. "'Put the ring on. Just for a minute.'"

"'After dinner.'"

"'What if they hate each other?'"

"'What if they don't? Be like me. Think on the bright side.'"

"'You make me so crazy.'"

Taking a deep breath, Bev put her arms around Bill's shoulders and leaned in. Their audience "Ooh'ed" and giggled as their lips touched. A memory came back to Beverly. When she had first returned to Derry, this had happened to her multiple times a day. It was like a light switch had turned on in her mind, letting her see something that had always been there, but she had been previously unable to access. She saw the blood oath. Everyone leaving one by one. She and Bill were the last ones to leave. It was when she had talked about moving to Portland. "I never felt like a loser when I was with all of you." Then it was her turn to leave. "See you around." She was walking away, but Bill ran after her. She had turned around when she heard him coming, and then he had kissed her. He _kissed her._ Why hadn't she remembered this before? She had been surprised, but then she had smiled and kissed him back. And then...

"Bye," Beverly said out loud.

"'Ugh!'" the girl who played Pugsley shouted as she entered the stage, jolting Beverly back into the moment. Bill was staring at her, eyes wide. _He knew about this_ , Beverly thought. _Why did he never tell me?_ "'Maybe you two should get a room?'"

Beverly looked at Pugsley, then back at Bill. She realized then that she didn't know what she was supposed to say next. All of her thoughts were consumed by what had just happened. 

"'Pugsley, stop sneaking around like that!'" Tracy called from below the stage. 

"What?" Bev asked, completely disoriented. 

"It's your..it's your line, Bev," Bill whispered. "Are you okay?"

"Ummm...yeah, uh. 'Pugsley, stop sneaking around like that'?" 

"'It's my house, too, you know!'" she said, but she was looking at Bev like she had grown a third eye. 

Bev blinked, trying to clear the thoughts not relating to the musical from her mind. "'Excuse me while I'...'while I'...I'm sorry, I need a minute." She grabbed her head, running off the stage and into the hallway. She heard both Bill and Abby call after her, but she kept walking until she hit the doors to the outside. Then she started running. She didn't really know where she was going, just that she needed some air. She heard the door open behind her and footsteps chasing after her.

"Bev!" Bill called. "Beverly!"

She stopped and turned around as she got to the entrance of the lacrosse field. "What the hell just happened back there?" she asked.

Bill slowed to a stop when he caught up, breathing heavily. "What...what do you mean? I was going to ask you the same thing."

She ran her hands over her mouth, trying to process everything. "I had a memory. I thought I remembered everything, but I didn't. How did I not remember? You...you kissed me. After the blood oath, before I left for Portland. You kissed me. I kissed you."

Bill took a step back. "Yeah."

Bev stared at him. "Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you say anything?"

Bill ran his hands through his hair. "At first...at first I thought you _did_ remember. I thought you just...didn't feel that way about me anymore, so I didn't mention it because I didn't want to make things awkward between us. Even if you didn't feel the same way about me that I felt about you didn't mean we couldn't be friends. As time went on, though, there were little things that made me realize that you weren't just avoiding it, you didn't remember. But I thought, even if she didn't remember the kiss, she would remember her feelings. But you didn't make it seem like you had any, so I decided to just never bring it up, that it was easier to just be friends then bring up a time when we weren't. I...I didn't want to make things awkward."

Bev let out a short laugh. "Bill. I thought _you_ didn't have feelings for _me_. The only thing I remember about that summer is a few looks exchanged, and a poem that I found out you didn't write. I was the only girl in the group. It was completely possible that you only looked at me like that cuz I was a girl and I was there. That doesn't equal feelings. I thought I just misread everything that summer, or that you'd moved on while I was away."

"You didn't misread anything. And you might have forgotten about me, but I never forgot about you."

Bev tried to fight the smile that was forcing its way to her face. "That's not fair. I was affected by some supernatural memory loss curse."

Bill shuffled. "So...you still like me?"

Bev let the smile on and walked up to him, putting a hand on his cheek. "Of course I do. You're my fiancé."

Bill grinned and shortened the distance between them by kissing her. Not a stage kiss, but a real kiss. With a little less blood than last time. He pulled back after a minute, but she could tell it was hesitant. "We should probably get back. Abby's gonna be _pissed_ that we stopped rehearsal like this."

"Knowing her,she probably continued without us," Bev said. "If so, we better be back for Full Disclosure. We're kind of important in that one." She sighed. "Time to go beg for forgiveness."

"Hopefully she's more forgiving than Morticia. But you might have to tango with her first."

"I knew those lessons would come in handy one day." The two grinned at each other and hurried back to the set.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last exclusively rehearsal chapter in the fic! The next chapter will be the shortened version of the show performed in front of the whole school. If you thought nerves were bad in this chapter, they are about to get so much worse.


	8. Butterflies and Picnic Lunches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the day of the school performance, and everyone's feeling the stress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was Prop Master in my drama club like Mike, so his whole thing in this chapter is just what I had to struggle with on a daily basis.
> 
> Title from: Pulled, one of my favorites! This line just fits really well with the mood of the chapter.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

**Tuesday, April 23: 2 days before opening night**

Eddie stared at the clock, watching the seconds tick by in slow motion. He hadn't been this anxious for the bell to ring since the last day of school last year. Actually, this was much, _much_ more nerve-wracking. 

It was nearly lunchtime. Abby had told them last night that at lunchtime, they were to quickly eat and then get into full costume and makeup for their performance in front of the entire school. The performance wasn't until 1:30, giving them over an hour to eat, get dressed, and go over any last-minute lines, but it didn't seem like nearly enough time for Eddie. This performance was probably more nerve-wracking than opening night because this one was not in front of the community; it was in front of every student that they went to school with. If something went wrong, or if the other kids didn't like something they were doing, they could make Eddie's life Hell for the rest of his high school career. Well, his life was already Hell, but things had been fine at school ever since Henry Bowers got locked up for killing his father. (He really didn't feel like this was talked about enough. Bowers literally _murdered his father_. But that was Derry for you.)

The bell finally rang and Eddie sprung out of his seat so quickly he was worried he might break something. He grabbed his stuff and sprinted out of the classroom and down the halls to the dressing rooms, stopping quickly at his locker to grab his bag. He dropped his backpack on the floor in the hallway and sat down at one of the seats to start applying his ghost makeup. They had done a full makeup run last night, but that didn't make the feeling of the cold, wet goo on his skin any better. He hated to think about the chemicals that were in this stuff, or how his mother would react if she found out he was doing this but pushed those thoughts out of his mind. He had been the first to arrive, but the hallway soon filled up with anxious students shoving food into their mouths so they could start on their makeup. Eddie was too nervous to eat.

"You okay, Eds?" Richie asked, dropping into the seat next to him. "I was looking for you. I figured you would be eating."

"Not hungry," he said, smearing goo onto his neck.

"How much of your body does that stuff cover?" Richie asked. He leaned in close and whispered, "Is it, like, a _full-body_ thing?"

Eddie rolled his eyes, his cheeks turning warm.

"I don't think that's on thick enough, Eds. I see some red there." Before Eddie could stop him, Richie grabbed a handful of goo and rubbed it across Eddie's face in a thick swab.

" _Richie!_ " Eddie wiped at his face, trying to get the excess makeup off. "Shouldn't you be getting ready?"

"Nah, I wanted to eat something first, but you need to eat, too."

"Can't. I don't wanna mess up my makeup."

"You can reapply it." Richie grabbed Eddie's wrist, getting white goo all over it. "Oh. Right. Gotta get this shit off." He smeared the excess stuff back into the container and then grabbed a nearby towel to wipe his hands off before handing it to Eddie. Eddie just looked at it. "Come on, Eds. You have to eat. You don't want to faint on stage and ruin the whole show, do you?"

Eddie pursed his lips, staring at the towel for a few more moments before grabbing it and wiping his hands off. "Fine. I'll eat. But if I throw up on stage in front of the whole school, it's your fault."

Richie stood up to leave. "You ready?"

"Are we really doing this?" Eddie asked suddenly.

"What do you mean?" Richie asked, slowly sitting back down.

"We're going on stage and acting like we're in love in front of the whole school."

Richie raised his eyebrows. "Acting, huh?"

"You know what I mean. Honestly, the fact that we're _not_ acting makes it worse. We're basically being a couple on stage in front of _everyone_. I don't know if I can do this, Rich."

"Technically, we aren't a _couple_. We just flirt with each other. And I also flirt with Alice because Lurch is a whore and a bisexual icon." Eddie snorted. "I think we've learned from our... _many_ experiences in our short lives that we shouldn't let fear control us. Besides, we've rehearsed this whole flirting thing for four days, so you're legally not allowed to back out now or Abby _will_ kill you this time." 

Eddie smiled, leaning in close to Richie. "Alright. I suppose I can deal with pretending you're attractive for a couple hours." Richie widened his mouth in offense but quickly closed it when Eddie put his lips on it. Sneakily, he stuck his arm out, grabbing a small wad of goo and smearing it across Richie's face.

Richie backed up quickly. "You little shit!" He went to reach for the container, but the door opened and they quickly moved apart, trying to hide their smiles. 

Stan walked in, looking mildly irritated. "Of course you two are here. Richie, why are you wearing ancestor makeup?"

Eddie and Richie exchanged a look. "No reason," Richie said slowly.

Stan rolled his eyes, dropping onto a seat on the other side of the dressing room. "God, I can't believe it's the show today. I know it's not the real thing, but a show is a show. It _has_ to be perfect. 

"Of course it will be," Richie told him. " _I'm_ in it."

Eddie rolled his eyes. "And even if it's not, you did an amazing job, Stan. Best assistant stage manager ever." Stan lit up. Richie muttered, "Bitch," through a fake cough. Eddie elbowed him. 

"Yes, Stanley," Richie said in a monotonous voice. "You were great. The show will be great. Everything is great. Can we eat now?"

Ben was in Hell. Having to watch the girl he was in love with playing a character who was in love with someone else was bad enough. Having to watch the girl he was in love with _being_ in love with someone else? So much worse.

After watching Bill and Beverly laugh with each other for a few minutes, he excused himself to hide backstage, claiming he needed to go over some notes Abby had given him last night. Instead, he sat in stage left by the prop table, taking sad bites out of his sandwich. He knew he was being ridiculous, that he never had a chance with Beverly even before she started going out with Bill, but it didn't make it hurt any less.

He heard footsteps approaching and looked up to see Richie and Eddie running in through the gaps between curtains. "I know we didn't get our picnic date," he heard Richie say. "But that doesn't mean we can't have a little picnic lunch in the auditorium." 

He went to sit down, but Eddie stopped him. "Wait. Not here. Someone could walk in." He grabbed Richie's hand and dragged him toward the entrance to the catwalk. Ben pursed his lips. Stan was not going to be happy about that. Not that Ben planned on telling him. It was a dream come true to have your friend return your feelings; he wasn't going to ruin that by tattling to Stan about them. 

"Ah, young love," a voice said, causing Ben to jump and almost choke on his sandwich. He looked over to see Ezra standing on the stage, looking to where Richie and Eddie had disappeared. He looked back at Ben. "I remember the days of sneaking around in high school. I'm kidding. I was a total _loser_."

Ben smiled at that. "Being a loser doesn't have to be a bad thing."

"At that, you are correct, my young protege." He walked over and joined Ben on the floor. "What are you doing in here all alone?" Ben looked down at the floor. "Avoiding that girl of yours? What was it? Becky?"

"Beverly," Ben corrected. "You are really bad with names."

Ezra shrugged. "I meet a lot of people in my line of work. Only a few stick out, Ben Hanscom. You have a gift. I hope you plan on using it."

Ben shrugged. "I've always liked building things. I renovated this old underground shelter in the woods a few years ago. My friends helped, but it was mostly me. One day, I'd like to build something as iconic as the Sydney Opera House, or the Kremlin, or the Buraj al Arab."

Ezra raised his eyebrows. "I don't think I've ever met a fifteen-year-old who knows what the Buraj al Arab is."

Ben shrugged again, this time with a smile. "What can I say? I love architecture."

"As you should. It's one of the most underappreciated forms of art. People rarely take the time to actually look at a building, but if architects didn't love the work they did, the world would be a much more bland and, well, ugly place. You know what? Screw what I said before. Don't spend your life waiting for some girl to come along. You don't need a relationship to complete you. Just focus on your career, using that brilliant mind of yours to make some truly brilliant buildings. If one day you find love, well then that's a bonus. Never give up on your dreams."

"Thanks, Ezra."

Ezra pulled himself to his feet. "Alright, that's my yearly allotted motivational speech. Good luck with your show today. I'll be in the workshop, playing with my tools." He wandered off into the dark workshop, not bothering to turn on the lights.

_Wow, he is a weird man_ , Ben thought. _But I'd be lying if I said I didn't worship him._

"There you are," Abby said, appearing from behind a curtain. "Did you get the notes I sent you this morning?"

"Yup. All memorized." He tapped his head.

"Good. I just need to find Richie and Eddie. I can't find them anywhere..."

Ben grimaced. "I...umm...I think I saw them head for the bathroom a few minutes ago?"

"Okay. Thanks, Ben." She hurried off to look for two people who were not going to be found. He sent a quick text to Richie to let him know that Abby was looking for him and Eddie. He didn't have much to do to prepare for the show in an hour, so he pulled his book out of his backpack and settled in to read.

"I am losing my mind," Mike told Bill as he frantically searched stage left. 

"I'm sure it'll turn up," Bill said. He was standing off to the side, fumbling with his tie. He always struggled with remembering the steps to it but was trying not to ask for help this time. What kind of guy didn't know how to tie his own tie?

"The problem," Mike was saying, "is that it shouldn't have been missing in the first place. No one is allowed to touch props that aren't theirs, and no one is allowed to touch props period until it is time for the scene in which they are used. Abby has said this a thousand times, but does anyone listen? No!" 

"Well, aren't there extra candlesticks?"

"Yes, but I don't know who had the missing one. Tracy was supposed to give me a list of who had what, but she never did."

"That's because Tracy is a useless, good-for-nothing, piece of trash," Stan said, entering from behind the curtain.

"Oh, thank God," Mike said when he saw him. "Who had candlestick number eight?"

Stan looked through the pages on his clipboard. "That is...Adam's."

"I'll go find him," Bill offered. 

"I'll never make fun of your clipboard ever again," Mike said as Bill left the auditorium.

"You made fun of my clipboard?" The door closed before Bill could hear Mike try to save himself from that. 

"Hey," Bev greeted, stepping out of the choir room.

"Hey. Have you seen Adam anywhere?"

Bev shook her head. "I don't think so. Have you checked the dressing room?"

"Not yet." He moved to head over there, but Bev grabbed his arm. "You okay?"

"Just a little nervous. Are you?"

"Nervous is an understatement. I feel like there's a whole family of butterflies in my stomach, spanning three generations. I'm trying not to think about it."

"What do you need Adam for?"

"Prop emergency. Mike's freaking out."

"Speaking of looking for people, have you seen Richie or Eddie?"

Bill tilted his head, thinking, then shook it. "No. Not since second period. Which is...odd."

"Yeah. Abby's been looking for them. If they don't materialize soon, she's going to be pissed."

Bill nodded, knowing full well what it was like to be on the wrong end of Abby's wrath. Things turned out alright, but she had not been happy about Bill and Beverly running off at Thursday's rehearsal. She had let them get through the entire Full Disclosure scene before screaming at them in front of the entire cast. "I think I know where they might be. I'll check after I deal with Adam." He hurried down the hallway and into the men's dressing room. Adam was in there, finishing up painting his face. "Hey, Adam, do you know where your candlestick is?"

"Oh, yeah, I left it in the corner here." Bill saw that he had indeed left it there. 

He ran his hands over his face in frustration. "Okay, go put that back ASAP. And while you're at it, go beg for Mike's forgiveness for taking it in the first place." Adam nodded and Bill rushed off to the catwalk entrance. He glanced up at the steep ladder and elected to just shout their names from where he was.

"What?" Richie yelled down, his voice sounding annoyed and slightly out of breath.

"What the hell are you two doing up there?" Bill shouted. "Showtime in less than fifteen minutes! You better get your asses down and get ready!" He went to leave and then added, "And Abby's been looking for you, so don't even _think_ about dawdling." He heard Eddie mutter, "Shit, what time is it?" before running off to distract himself from his nerves in some other way.

Richie dropped down from the ladder after Eddie, his heart racing. They may have lost track of time while they were...eating lunch. They stepped out onto backstage where Mike and Ben were doing mics. Mike looked up at them when they entered. His eyes widened and he quickly gestured to his mouth. Richie pulled out his phone and opened the front camera, hurriedly wiping the white paint from his mouth. Guess it hadn't been as dry as he had thought. 

"Wait, Richie!" Mike called to him as he went to follow Eddie into the hallway. "Before you get dressed, let me mic you up."

"That sounds like a sex thing," Richie told him and Mike rolled his eyes. 

"Just...lift your shirt up."

" _Mikey._ You're aware I have a boyfriend, right?"

Mike put his face in his hands. "Turn around so I can mic you... _Don't_. I heard it that time."

Richie laughed and allowed Mike to put the mic belt on him. He finished up just as a chorus member, Adam, appeared from stage left. "Hey, Mike, I can't find my candlestick."

"Again?" Mike shouted. Richie shared a frightened look with Ben and hurried into the hallway before he had to witness a murder. He saw Abby outside the choir room and quickly ran to the men's dressing room before she saw him. 

"Richie!" she yelled, a furious look on her face.

"Sorry, gotta change!" He shut the door behind him. He heard her call for Stan and grabbed his garment bag to get dressed before he arrived. As soon as he pulled on his jacket, Stan burst through the door. "Stanley! I could have been naked."

"Where the _hell_ have you been? People start arriving in five minutes! Do you want to ruin my show? Have you done your mic check?"

"Not yet?" Stan gave him a death glare and he hurried to the door. "I'm going right now." He paused before opening the door. "I'm sorry, Stanley."

Stan waved him off. "I know. Just go. I'll get your makeup together for when you get back."

Richie hurried off to the stage. When he got there, there was a class slowly trickling in and he stopped short. "Shit," he muttered, and the sound echoed through the room. A couple of kids snickered. He shoved his hands into his pockets. "Umm...is that all you need?"

"Can you do your growl at the end of When You're an Addams?" the sound guy called. Richie growled. More laughter came from the audience. "Thanks! All good, Richie!"

Richie waved pointedly at the class, all clustered together in the front two rows on the right. "Uhhh...enjoy the show?" He hurried back to the dressing room. There were a few people in there finishing up on their looks, but most were on their way backstage to their opening marks. He hurried over to Eddie. "Eds! They're here!"

"You better get your makeup on, Rich. Do you need help? Stan was going to, but he had to go deal with some last-minute details."

Richie sat down next to him and the two began smearing green paint on Richie's exposed skin. "Remember how you were saying how nervous you were about the whole... _thing_ , doing that in front of the whole school?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm starting to feel that."

Eddie gave him a reassuring smile. "It's gonna be fine, Rich. You can't go spending all afternoon telling me that and then not believe it yourself. We are going to have a great pre-show, then a great last two rehearsals, and then three great shows. Everything is going to be fine."

"You sound like you're trying to convince yourself that."

"I'm trying to convince us both." He finished dabbing green pain on Richie's neck, then pulled back to admire his work. "Not perfect, but they won't notice from so far away." He glanced at the clock on his phone. "Time to go. Break a leg!"

Everything was chaos. Not the show; the show actually went quite well. Up until the final scene when Alice slammed the sacred chalice down and it broke in half. Everyone had done a good job staying in character for the remainder of the Act, but as soon as the lights went off on stage and came up in the audience, everyone lost it. 

"It's on one of those shelves!" Abby called up to Eddie, who was on the balcony where the props were stored. It was a mess up here, and very high up. Eddie tried not to look down. 

"There are _a lot_ of shelves up here!" he called back. Lots of shelves, yes, and half of them were blocked by larger props. He could see now why he was the one chosen for this task; there was no way anyone bigger could have fit in these tiny spaces. 

"I distinctly remember it being by the bongos!"

Eddie, who was currently looking at the shelf behind the bongos, did not see the backup chalice. He sighed in frustration. None of this would have happened if Anya had listened to Stan about slamming the chalice down too hard. Which he could hear Stan still ranting about backstage. He stepped back to get a better look at the shelf, giving himself a new perspective to see the chalice on a higher shelf than he was able to risk. "I found it! It's just a little bit high, but I can get it."

"Wait!" Abby said. "Don't put yourself in danger! I'll find someone else to get it."

"Too late," Eddie muttered, climbing on top of a table and grabbing the chalice. He ran to the railing and held it up to how he found it, then hurried to the ladder. The ladder was almost worse than the one to the catwalk but was pushed ahead by the fact that he would need to climb down one-handed. 

He saw Richie enter the warehouse, shooting a concerned look up at him "You okay, Eds?" he asked.

"Yup. Just trying to figure out how to get down without dropping this. Or myself."

"You could try tossing it down?" Richie suggested.

"Absolutely not," Abby told him. "We are _not_ losing our only chalice. We don't have another one."

"And you're fine with losing Eddie?"

"Of course n-"

"I'm fine," Eddie told them. "I just have to...adjust..." He grabbed the tops of the ladder with his one-and-a-half hands and slowly made his way down. It took a lot more effort than he cared to admit. He dropped down, breathing heavily. "Got it."

"Alright, just take that over to Mike." She turned to Richie as Eddie left the room. "How dare you insinuate I care more about my props than my students." Eddie glanced back to see Richie hold his hands up defensively and rolled his eyes. He was always finding a new way to start beef with Abby.

"I knew this was going to happen!" Stan said for the hundredth time in the ten minutes since the performance ended. "I _knew_ it would happen! Didn't I say this was going to happen?"

"You _did_ say it was going to happen," Bev said.

"Don't encourage him," Bill told her. He was currently standing next to Mike, patting him soothingly on the back. Mike was bent over the prop table, his head in his hands. He had taken one of his beloved props breaking very personally. "It's okay, Mikey. They're looking for the backup chalice."

"Got it right here, Mikey," Eddie told him. Mike slowly lifted his head. Eddie almost expected him to be crying, but he just looked very stressed. Eddie held out the chalice and Mike took it, holding it gently like a newborn baby.

"I'm just saying," Richie said, following Abby out of the warehouse. "We could easily write another Lurch feature and I'll have it memorized by opening night."

Abby turned to him, gesturing forcefully. "Richie, I am _begging you_."

"I got this, Abby," Eddie told her with a grin. "Beep beep, Richie."

Richie glared at him but said nothing. Abby looked between the two of them, looking impressed. "I need to write that one down."

"Hey. Losers only," Bill said. 

Abby smiled. "Aren't we all losers here? I need to gather everyone for notes."

"She's not wrong," Bev said. "I mean, it's why we all like it here, isn't it?"

"We're not opening up the Club, are we?" Stan asked with a scowl. 

"Of course not," Bill said, at the same time Bev said, "Why not?"

'What are you guys talking about?" Ben asked, walking in from the stage. 

"Judy Greer over here wants to open up the Losers Club," Richie said. 

"You know, calling me by every red-haired actress' name is not as big of an insult as you seem to think it is."

"I don't think it's a bad idea," Ben told them. Bev raised her eyebrows at him. "Not the insult thing," he said quickly. "The Club thing. I mean, why shouldn't we let others in? You guys let _us_ in." He gestured to himself, Bev, and Mike.

"I'll tell you why," Richie said. "Because the Club is for those who saved this shitty ass town from a killer demon clown. Where were they when we were almost dying for them? Doing jazz hands and singing runs?"

"Well, how about we make it a vote," Bev said. She and Bill were having some sort of stare down that Eddie wasn't a fan of. 

"Fine," Bill said. "All in favor of opening up the Losers Club?" Bev, Ben, and Mike raised their hands. Bill smiled. "And all opposed?" He, Richie, and Stan raised their hands. Everyone looked at Eddie.

"You really want to let other people in, Eds?" Richie asked him.

Eddie shrunk back. "I didn't say that."

"So you _don't _want to let people in?" Bev asked, arms crossed.__

____

"I didn't say that, either."

____

____

"You have to choose, Eddie," Stan said. "You're our tiebreaker."

____

____

Eddie did not like being the tiebreaker. He didn't like everyone's eyes on him. Especially since he wasn't really sure what he thought. The theater students had become like another family for him. But they weren't anything like the Loser's Club. They didn't understand him the way the Losers did, and they never would. Plus, Richie and Bill both wanted to keep things closed, and he valued their opinions. "I vote against," he finally said. 

____

____

"Ha!" Richie said at Bev. 

____

____

"This isn't over," Bev snapped, stomping away. Ben shrugged and followed her.

____

____

"I think you guys should at least think about it," Mike said, joining them. Then it was just the four of them, the original Losers Club. 

____

____

"Maybe they're right," Stan said. Everyone looked at him. He shrugged. "I mean, first it was about bonding over being bullied by Bowers, but he's gone. And then it was about It, but It's gone, too. And...I like it here. Maybe we shouldn't make such rash decisions. Sure, Tracy is terrible, but there are a lot of good people here."

____

____

"We can still be friends with them," Bill said. "But that doesn't mean we have to let them in our Club." He went to join the other students gathering on the stage for notes. Stan followed him.

____

____

"You see why it's a bad idea, right, Eds?" Richie asked him. "I mean, we can't trust them with our secrets. They're cool, but they're not Losers. Not like we are."

____

____

"Yeah," Eddie said, but he was suddenly unsure about a lot of things.

____

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh-oh! We've got some infighting going on...
> 
> Next up: opening night!


	9. We Aren't What People Call "Laid Back"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's opening night of the Derry High School production of the Addams Family Musical! Hopefully, everything goes perfectly, although those pre-show traditions are a bit...odd.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is late again! This chapter goes into the pre-show traditions, all of which are very real traditions we did in my high school drama club. Writing this made me very emo cuz I miss theater so much!
> 
> I dedicate this chapter to any theater kids currently having to postpone or even cancel the shows they've been working on. I can't imagine what kind of torture that must be. If you need to talk or rant, feel free to message me! Even just to tell me about your shows, especially any weird traditions you guys have!
> 
> Title from: One Normal Night, another favorite. It's really fun to see performed, too, because there is so much happening in this song. I love full-cast performances with multiple scenes. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

**Thursday, April 25: OPENING NIGHT!!!**

"It's just three more days," Eddie told his mom as she pulled into the school parking lot. "Three busy days and then everything will go back to normal."

"Good," she said, stopping in the drop off lane. "I don't like that you're going to be out so late on a school night. What time did you say the show would be over again?"

"Actually," he began, hiding his crossed fingers under his backpack. "After opening night, everyone goes out for pizza and breadsticks at Finnegan's."

"Absolutely not. You're already not getting home until after ten. It's a school night. You need your sleep. Do you want to get sick?"

"But, Mom, it's a good bonding experience."

"The only 'bonding experience' you need is with your mother."

Eddie slumped in his seat. " _Please_. I've done nothing but school and theater for over a week. Fun is important in childhood development, too. And social activities. I haven't been able to do much socializing lately."

"You socialize at school between classes. And you socialize with me. Am I not good enough for you?"

"Of course not," Eddie said quickly. "And there's not much socializing done at school. We only get a few minutes between classes and a thirty-minute lunch that I only have with half my friends. I need socialization with people my own age. One night of missed sleep isn't going to hurt me. Plus, once all this is over, I'll be able to be in bed _extra_ early." 

"Isn't Finnegan's a bar?"

"No. It _has_ a bar. Which we won't be anywhere near. Just pizza and breadsticks. Which I don't need to eat because they're greasy and full of unhealthy chemicals. I just want to go to hang out with everyone. Can I _please_ go?"

His mom was quiet for a while, thinking it over. "How are you getting there?"

"Richie was going to drive me."

"No."

"What? Why? Richie drove me to and from school every day the past two months. He's not as bad of a driver as one might think by looking at him."

"I don't want you alone with him."

Eddie's heart skipped a beat. She didn't know, did she? "We won't be. Not that it would be an issue if we were. Stan will be there with us."

"Hmmm." Eddie could see the struggle in her mind over how much she hated Richie and how much she liked Stan. "How late?"

"Midnight?"

"11:30. And not a _second_ later, you hear me?"

Eddie perked up. "So I can go?"

"Not a _second_ ," she repeated.

Eddie squealed, leaning over to give her a hug. "Thanks, Mom! I gotta go!" He hurried out of the car before she could change her mind, running into the school. 

"Are you still mad at me?" Bill asked as they entered their fifth minute of complete silence since he had picked Beverly up. "I feel like you're still mad at me."

"What makes you think I'm mad at you?" Bev asked cooly.

That felt like a trick question. Bill racked his brain for the proper way to word his answer. "Because you've barely spoken since I picked you up? Not to mention the last two days. You let me drive you, but you don't talk to me."

"Hmmm." 

"That's not an answer." She didn't say anything, and that confirmed Bill's suspicions. She was definitely mad at him. He just wasn't exactly sure why. He was sure it had to do with their argument the other day at rehearsal, about whether or not they should open up the Losers Club, but he didn't get why it upset her so much. He wanted to ask, but considering the icy cold stare she was giving the front windshield, he thought it best to find some other way to find out. They had only been together for a week; he was determined not to have such a short-term relationship.

Richie had always known that theater was kind of like a cult, but this was taking it to the next level. While waiting for dinner to be ready, the girls started getting dressed. The boys played Idiot Ball.

"Wait, what's Idiot Ball?" Richie asked Bill when one of the older chorus members announced it. 

Bill grinned. "It's a game we play every day there's a show. We march down to the gym, lay down in a line, then throw a duct tape ball in the air until we hit someone's...sensitive area."

"What?" Eddie shrieked. "Why the hell do you do that?"

Bill shrugged. "I don't know how it started, but it's tradition. The first one we do of the day. Oh, and you're not allowed to flinch, or you have to stand against the wall and let us throw the ball at you."

Eddie looked like he was going to pass out. Richie grinned. "Oh, I am _in_!" 

"I am not letting that thing anywhere _near_ my 'sensitive area'!"

"It's the rules, Eddie. Otherwise, you don't get to eat dinner." Bill shrugged again. 

"But-"

Richie wrapped his arm around Eddie's shoulder. "Oh, come on, Eds. It'll be fun!"

Stan joined their group, holding a small but dense-looking ball of duct tape. "It's time."

"You, too, Stan?" Eddie asked.

"What kind of stage manager would I be if I skipped out on as important of a tradition as Idiot Ball?" He leaned in to whisper something to Eddie and he laughed, looking slightly reassured. "Time for Idiot Ball!" he shouted to everyone else. "To the gym!"

That was when the chanting started. After a few rounds, Richie gathered it as them saying, "The color of the red, the red. The color of the black, the black" repeatedly in a very military-style rhythm. He shrugged and joined in, following the crowd of both boys and girls marching down to the gym. One of the girls turned the lights on as all the boys gathered together on the floor, lining up their middle regions. Stan and Eddie waited until everyone was down before taking their positions at the end. _Ah, so_ that's _what they were talking about_ , he thought. _Laying at the end must reduce your chances of getting hit._

The girls gathered around to watch. Stan quickly went over the rules again, then began. 

Fifteen minutes later, they were in line for food. Richie was still doubled over in pain. "It's a good thing I didn't plan on having children," he managed. "Because I no longer think that's possible."

"I will never understand how you guys keep doing that every show night," Bev told them. "Then again, it _is_ called _Idiot_ Ball. And we all know that you four are major idiots."

"We have to do that again tomorrow?"

"Every night," Stan told him.

"Well, don't I get an exemption since I'm the loser?"

"Technically, you're the winner," Bill said. "And no. No exemptions. Isn't theater great?"

"You're just happy cuz you didn't get hit," Eddie grumbled, rubbing at his arm. "My mom is going to kill you all for making me do this."

"What your mother doesn't know won't hurt her," Richie said.

"But, apparently, it _will_ hurt _me_."

Richie inched his way up in the line, then lit up when he saw what it was. "Spaghetti! My favorite!" He winked at Eddie. Eddie rolled his eyes. Each of them got their plates and went to sit in the choir room. 

One of the chorus girls came rushing in and settled onto the ground with her plate. "Alright, guys. You know the drill. First kiss stories!"

Richie spit his drink back into his cup. Eddie elbowed him. The chorus girl looked intrigued. "Oh, do you have a good story, Richie?"

Richie let his instincts take over. "Of course I do, Erica...but your mom made me promise not to say anything." Erica rolled her eyes as everyone went "OOOHHHH!"

"Nice save," Stan whispered to him. 

"Mom jokes are my superpower," he whispered back. 

"What about you, Bill?" someone asked. 

Richie saw Bill and Bev exchange a look. "Oh, you guys know my first kiss story," he said nonchalantly. "Third grade play with the one and only, Beverly Marsh." Everyone giggled. 

"It's our second kiss that's the interesting one," Bev said. She looked at Bill, a dramatically frightened look on her face. "Oh, wait, am I allowed to tell that story, Bill? I forgot to ask your permission first."

Everyone exchanged looks with each other, the vibe in the room growing increasingly uncomfortable. Bill stared at her, mouth open. "I...I um...you don't..."

"What? Don't have to ask your permission. Cuz that's not the impression I've been getting from you." She gave him one last cold glare before storming out of the choir room.

Bill stared after her, then looked at Richie and Eddie. "I...what just happened?"

Richie patted him on the back. "I think you should go talk to her, man." Bill gave his food a longing look before running out of the room. 

Bill stopped her right before she went into the women's dressing room. "Beverly, wait!" 

She turned around, an annoyed look on her face. "What?"

"Can we...can we talk?"

Bev crossed her arms. "Go on."

Bill looked around them, to where there were suddenly a lot more people milling about, pretending like they weren't trying to listen to this conversation. You'd think they'd be better at hiding it, with them being actors and all. They avoided eye contact when Bill looked at the, "Can we go somewhere a little more...private?"

"I'm not the one keeping secrets from them."

Bill raised his eyebrows. "Oh, so they know the truth about your dad?"

Bev dropped her arms, grabbing Bill's and dragging him around the corner and into the gym. "Alright, I'm listening."

"I'm the one who needs to be listening. Can you just tell me why you're so mad? Because I'm not understanding."

Bev looked away. "I just feel like you don't take me seriously."

"What are you talking about? Of course I do!"

"Oh really? Then why did you dismiss my idea to open up the Losers Club, without even hearing what I had to say?"

"Because it is not your club to make that decision. It's all of ours. We had a vote, and the vote was no. End of discussion."

"End of discussion? There was no discussion to begin with!" She turned away and took a deep breath. "Just tell me this: if the vote had swung in my favor, if Eddie had said yes, would you have done it? Would you have let us open the Losers Club to new people?" Bill looked at the floor. "I fucking knew it. You don't respect my ideas. You don't respect _me_. All you care about is yourself. You won't get off your high horse for _one minute_ to see that-"

"How exactly were you planning on telling them about that summer, huh?" Bill interrupted. "You know that Kayla's sister was killed. How are you going to tell her that, not only was her sister murdered, she was _eaten alive_?"

"We don't have to tell them _everything_."

"Then what exactly are we going to tell them? I can't talk about Georgie and just pretend that he was killed by some psycho killer. You can't talk about how, when you left for Portland, you forgot about all of us. We can't talk about our...our fears for the future, that that is what is going to happen to all of us. So much of our lives are defined by the experiences we went through that summer. _That's_ what bonds us, what makes us the Losers Club."

"We were losers before we knew what was happening. We were... _are_ bonded by our experiences as losers. _It_ brought us together, but we never would have stayed without that bond, that _trust_. The knowledge that we would accept each other, _love_ each other, no matter what. I've felt that here, with the people in theater. Haven't you?"

"I guess not as strongly as you do. I like them, of course I do, but I don't think I'm ready to let people into our group. Not yet anyway. And I know you and Ben and Mike disagree, and Stan and Eddie are on the fence, but I know Richie is with me. I mean, what happens if we _do_ let people in? Do we invite them to the Clubhouse? Because you know that's the only place Richie and Eddie can be themselves."

"I didn't think about that," Bev muttered. "I don't know, I just...I guess I was hoping for another girl in the group."

Bill smiled. "I get that. I do. You've been the only girl with six boys. Six really _stupid_ boys. That's gotta suck sometimes."

"Hey, you're not _all stupid_. I mean, _you_ are, but..."

Bill rolled his eyes, but his smile widened when she grinned. "You know, you _are_ allowed to have friends outside the Club. Just...I think we can agree that, if we are to let someone else in, we _all_ have to approve. Okay?"

Bev sighed dramatically. "I suppose I can be okay with that."

He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close. " _Please_ let me know when I do something that upsets you in the future. I am but a dumb teenage boy who doesn't always understand the consequences of his actions, and I don't want us to be like those couples who never know what's going on in each other's heads."

Bev laid her head on his shoulder. "Deal. Now, let's go get dressed. There are still plenty of wacky traditions we have to get through before the show starts."

"What's the purpose of watching a clip from a hockey movie on opening night?" Richie whispered to Stan.

"Weren't you listening to the speech?" he hissed. "It's about the message, about working as a team, about _being_ a team. It's motivational."

"If you say so."

After the clip, they were told to gather in a circle. The guy who played Mal Beineke stood in the middle. "Alright, so I'll go over the rules for our newbies. I'm going to shout, 'What are we?' and you guys say, 'Ducks!' and then I say, 'And what do ducks do?' and you say, 'Ducks fly together!' and then I will flap my wings and run around the circle as you all chant, 'Quack!' and clap your hands. Got it?"

"What the f-"

"Shhh!" Stan shot Richie a dirty look. "It's tradition! Just do it!"

"What are we?"

"Ducks!" everyone shouted.

"And what do ducks do?"

"Ducks fly together!"

Sure enough, the guy who played Mal ran around the circle flapping his arms like wings as everyone clapped in beat while shouting, "Quack!" God, theater kids were the strangest. 

Fred, their musical director. entered the room and called for everyone to move the circle to the center of the room to do vocal exercises. Stan waved and left with the other tech kids. They made it through the singing part and then one of the chorus girls stepped into the circle to lead the tongue twisters. (Repeating each of the following a few times. "Red leather, yellow leather. Tip it, pip it. Unique, New York.")

"Razzle Dazzle time! Someone go get the techies!"

"Wait, what's that one?" Richie asked as a jazzy song started playing. Everyone began dancing around the room. Bev came up to him and grabbed his arms, moving him around. He saw another chorus girl grab Eddie and felt a pang of jealousy that he couldn't dance with him himself. Bev seemed to notice this and dragged him over to where they were. Bill and Stan came over, too, dragging Mike and Ben along with them. 

"No one will care if you dance with him," Bev whispered. She grabbed Stan and began doing some sort of tango-like dance with him, then nodded aggressively at Eddie. Richie looked around, his heart beating fast, but his desires overcame his anxiety and he pulled Eddie close to him, twirling him around. It was thrilling, really, to be this close with him with so many people around. He could almost get used to this.

At the end of the song, they all once again joined in the circle and, at the same time, started doing little kicks in time with each other, then clapped twice at the end. How they all learned all these moves, Richie would never know. But he had to admit, it _was_ kind of fun.

Next came the opening night speech, then a tradition where someone who had been working hard lately received a small golden rodent that they had to hide somewhere backstage and if you saw it you got good luck, but you couldn't tell anyone about it or you would destroy the whole show. Beverly got it today and she quickly left to go hide it while Fred gave a speech about how well they had been working and how proud he was of them. When Bev got back, it was time for the most important tradition, or so Richie was told. In this one, they "passed the energy" around the circle by everyone holding their right hand over their left and holding the hands of the people on either side of them. One person started by squeezing the hand of one of the people next to them and everyone continued the squeezing around the circle until it got to the end. During all of this, everyone was to remain absolutely silent or, you guessed it, it would ruin the whole show. During the time, you could pray, reflect, whatever you needed to get your mind ready for the show. Upon reaching the end, the starter says "Okay," and everyone chants, "Haja, haja, haja, break a leg" and then claps once and immediately leaves the room. Silence must be maintained until you are out of the room or you are at fault for ruining the show. This was related many times. Richie was afraid of what would happen if he _had_ spoken, but he assumed murder was not off the table. Theater kids were _intense_.

"Is that all for traditions?" Richie asked as soon as they all exited the choir room. 

"Oh no," Bill said with a laugh. Richie did not like the sound of that. "One more for the boys, one more for the girls."

"What do the girls do?"

"We sing and dance to ABBA's 'Dancing Queen'," Bev said.

"Oh. And what do the boys do?"

Bill laughed again, this time much more evil sounding. "We'll explain in the dressing room." He grabbed Richie and Eddie's arms and dragged them along. 

"This is a tradition even _I_ won't participate in," Stan said. "I'll see you backstage!"

"I don't like the sound of that," Eddie said with a frown, and Richie had to agree. Though he didn't think he had much of a choice.

"So what _is_ this tradition you guys do in the dressing room?" Mike asked Richie as they stood backstage waiting for the show to start. "I wondered that last year but never asked."

"You don't wanna know," Richie told him, smoothing down his pants for the thirtieth time. Mike counted.

"Alright. Are your parents out there?" He glanced at the space beyond the curtain. He couldn't see the audience from here, but he could hear them. It sounded like a pretty packed crowd. He tried not to let that spook him. He knew his grandpa was out there somewhere. He suddenly remembered all the... _questionable_ lines in the musical, but it was a bit late for that now.

"Yeah. They came by before the show to tell me to 'break a leg' and all that. My mom was going to bring these special allergen-free brownies tonight, but she was so nervous that she forgot. It's my show and _she's_ nervous."

"Are _you_?"

"Of course not. I'm _terrified_."

Mike grinned. He knew that feeling all too well. "I'm just glad all the candles are here. If I have to hunt one more down five minutes before a show again, I'm going to lose it." The lights dimmed in the audience and the crowd quieted. His heart started beating faster. "Break a leg, you guys!" he whispered, then went to stand next to Stan to watch the opening scene. 

Everything was going fine until the sword broke. Mike hadn't even known it had happened at first. One moment, the scene was going along just fine, Wednesday telling her father about Lucas and his family coming to visit. Then, Gomez pulled out the fencing sword from the scene earlier where he was fighting Lurch to shout the line, "'Ohio? A swing state!'", and the blade just...fell off, and went flying into the audience. Being as great of actors as they were, the cast continued with the scene as if nothing happened, but everyone backstage was _freaking out_. 

"What do we do?" someone asked Stan.

Stan stared onto the stage, then slowly pressed the button on his headset that activated his microphone. "Umm...Abby?"

"I'm on my way," Mike could hear Abby say through his headset. "Everyone stay calm. Stan, make sure everyone stays quiet backstage. This didn't happen. The audience cannot know that anything is wrong. The show must go on!" 

Stan looked around at everyone, waving them off as they tried to question him. He snapped his fingers at Richie, waving him over. "Gomez needs a sword for his whole thing at the end of 'Trapped'. Where's your sword at?"

Richie ran to grab it as Abby entered backstage from the hallway. "Gomez needs a sword!" she said.

"Already on it," Stan told her. "My idea was to have Richie go out as Lurch and bring Gomez _his_ sword. Make it seem like this was supposed to happen."

"That's brilliant!" Abby said as Richie returned with his sword. They quickly told him the plan, and his eyes widened at the knowledge that he would need to pull off some improv.

"Oh, I don't know if I can-"

"You don't have a choice," Stan told him. "Just walk out in character and give Gomez the sword."

"Get ready," Abby said. "I'll cue you." The four of them moved to the edge of the curtains, waiting for the right moment, then Abby tapped him on the shoulder and shooed him out. Everyone backstage was huddled around the curtains, watching the scene unfold. On stage, Richie handed Gomez his sword, and Gomez thanked him, continuing with the scene as planned. Richie returned backstage and everyone started excitedly whispering. Abby shushed everyone, but she looked excited, too. It wasn't often that improv opportunities happened on stage, so when they did, they were a big deal.

"Oh my God, I can't believe that happened!" Bev, who had come in with Richie, whispered to Mike. "That whole thing with Lurch...whose idea was that?"

"Stan's," Mike said, nudging Stan proudly. Stan waved them off, but he was grinning wide. 

"I have to get to the other side, but nice job, Stan! You're a genius!" She hurried off around the back of the stage. 

"What about the broken part of the sword?" Mike asked Abby.

"Oh, I'll run and get it during intermission. It'll be fine. I gotta get back to the sound booth. Keep up the good work, everyone!"

Eddie ran off stage a few minutes later. "I can't believe I had to stay on stage through all of that! That was insane!"

"Ah, it was nothing," Stan said, already used to the compliments. "That's showbiz. Be prepared for the unexpected." He looked up at the ceiling. "Just please let that be the only hiccup in the show. I'm begging you."

Luckily, the rest of the show went by perfectly. After congratulating each other on a job well done, as well as a less constricted chatter about the sword scene, the kids whose parents came to the show ran off to meet them. Eddie joined Richie to see his parents since his mom wasn't there. 

"God, that was the most terrifying moment of my entire life," Richie told him as they walked down the hallway to the area outside the auditorium. "And yes, I am including the clown. The clown didn't require me to look good in front of half the town and my parents."

"You handled it really well," Eddie said. "If I hadn't seen that scene done a thousand times, I wouldn't have thought there was anything wrong."

"You did well, too. I don't know if I would have been able to hold it together like you did if I had been on stage."

Eddie smiled proudly. "We both did good. The whole show. Aside from the sword thing, everything was perfect. A great opening night, I'll say."

"Hell yeah. Do you see them?"

Eddie stood on his tiptoes, peering around the crowd in search of Richie's parents. "Oh! I see them! They're by the doors over there." They hurried over and Richie's mom squealed when she saw him.

"You were so good out there!" she said, giving him a hug. "I'm so proud of you! You, too, Eddie!" She gave Eddie a hug, too. "Did you get my flowers, Richie?"

"Not yet. They keep them in the hallway cuz it's bad luck to receive flowers before the show's over. I'll get them when we're done."

"Look at you, all well-versed in theater superstitions," his dad said. He put his hand on Richie's shoulder. "I'm proud of you, Rich, for finding something you enjoy and sticking with it. You did well out there."

Richie was practically glowing with praise. Eddie couldn't help feel a little bit jealous. He always knew they were so different, but actually seeing the differences in reactions between his mom and Richie's parents made him realize what he was missing. 

"Oh, I just love your costume, Eddie," Richie's mom said. "And I love what you did with your character. If I didn't know any better, I'd say the two of you were a couple!" She laughed loudly.

"Mom," Richie said in a low voice.

"I'm sorry, was that too much?" she whispered to Richie, but it was loud enough that Eddie could hear. _What did she mean by that?_ he thought. He raised an eyebrow at it but decided not to ask about it just yet. 

"Hey, guys," Mike greeted, joining them with an older man just behind him. "This is my gramps. Gramps, this is Eddie, Richie, and Richie's parents." The adults immediately began conversing with each other, so Mike turned to the two of them. "I told my grandpa about the whole sword thing, and how it wasn't supposed to happen, and he said he barely even noticed. Aside from the fact that it was a total safety hazard that we would never be able to properly pull off. Thank God no one was hurt. I hadn't even thought about it at the time. It was like the opening of some crime drama. But the point is, we pulled it off!"

"I honestly don't know how," Richie said. "I was shaking the whole time." 

"The point is, we did. That's all that matters. I'm going to say goodbye to my gramps and then go take care of some props, and then pizza time!" He walked off with his grandpa. Richie and Eddie said their goodbyes to Richie's parents before heading back to the dressing room. After changing out of their costumes and cleaning off as much makeup as they could, they joined Stan in the choir room to head out. 

"I can't believe my mom is letting me go," Eddie said as they walked through the parking lot to Richie's car. "Maybe she's finally going to start giving me some freedom."

"God, I sure hope so," Richie said. He threw his arm around him. "This distance thing is _killing me_. If she doesn't, I'm fully prepared to kidnap you and run away to the Netherlands."

"Why the Netherlands?"

Richie shrugged. "I don't know. It was the first thing that came to mind. The where doesn't matter. All that matters is you're there with me."

"And screw Stan," Stan added.

"For the last time, Stanley, I'm saving myself for Eddie." Stan groaned, walking faster to get to Richie's car before them. "I know I'm hard to resist, but you're just gonna have to!" He unlocked the door so Stan could dramatically throw himself into the backseat. 

At Finnegan's, the seven of them bunched together at the end of one of the long tables. They had pushed a bunch of tables together in the back room that they reserved so everyone could sit together.

"Everyone remember to be super nice to the wait staff!" one girl yelled.

"And tip well if you can!" another added.

Despite telling his mom he wouldn't get anything, Richie convinced Eddie to split a basket of cinnamon breadsticks with him, claiming they were "to die for", which was fitting for their musical. Richie also split a cheese pizza with Stan. ("Didn't you eat two plates of spaghetti earlier?" "So? I'm a growing boy.") It took nearly forty minutes for their food to get to them, considering all the people they had with them, but it was worth the wait. The breadsticks were the greatest things Eddie had ever tasted.

"I am so glad I came," he said, moaning as he took another bite. 

"That's what your mom said last night," Richie said. Stan and Eddie elbowed him at the same time. "Yup. I deserved that. I apologize."

Eddie lost track of the time until it was 11:10 and he realized he needed to be home in fifteen minutes. "Shit, Rich, we gotta go." A couple of people had left already, so they weren't the first to leave, but Eddie didn't want to go yet. He was having blast talking to the other chorus members. They talked during rehearsal, but they didn't see each other much outside of them. It was nice to just sit and pretend he was a normal kid for a little while.

"Shit. I gotta go pay. You and Stan go wait out in the car."

Eddie and Stan said their goodbyes and went outside. "I hate that I'm making you guys leave because my mom doesn't want me out late."

"Hey, it's okay," Stan told him. "I'm feeling a little tired anyway. I probably would have wanted to leave around the same time even if you didn't need to." He paused. "I'm sorry your mom's like this. Even when my dad gets strict, he's never like that. I just wish I could do something, like show her how happy you are when she's not around."

"Oh, no. That would drive her insane. She _hates_ when I'm happy outside her control. She wants to be the only thing I have. The fact that she hasn't completely cut me off from you guys is a miracle."

"I mean, she did, for a little bit. That summer. She wouldn't let any of us see you. Believe me, we tried. Especially Richie. He was going crazy not being able to see you. I don't know what he would do if she cut you off again."

"Well, hopefully she doesn't."

They climbed into the car when they saw Richie exit the restaurant. "What were you two talking about?" he asked, hopping into the driver's seat.

"Nothing," Stan told him.

It was 11:26 by the time they had dropped Stan off and pulled into Eddie's driveway. Eddie could see his mom's silhouette in the window but didn't want to get out just yet. He wanted to ask Richie something but didn't know how to phrase it. Finally, he asked, "Did you tell your mom about us?"

"What?"

"It's just...at the show, the way she said that thing about us being a couple. It was like she knew. It's fine if you did, I was just wondering since you never told me."

Richie was quiet for a moment. "I'm sorry. I told her the night you had that talk with your mom. I was going to tell you, but you were so upset over what she said, and what she was making you do. It felt like I was just rubbing it in your face, the way my mom was cool with everything."

"Oh, Richie. You should have told me. I didn't mean to dampen your coming out with my shitty life."

"No! It's not your fault. It just...it didn't seem like a big deal considering what you were going through."

"It's a _huge_ deal, Richie! Coming out to your mom? That's amazing! And I would have been happy for you even _with_ everything I've been going through."

"It really wasn't, though. A big deal. She was so cool about it. She even said she always had suspicions about you and me, how we were so close, even before the party."

"Really?" Eddie laughed. "Did everyone know but us?"

"I guess so." He looked up at the window, where Eddie's mom was watching them. "Well, hopefully not _everyone_. But it...it feels nice for her to know, to not have to hide it. I haven't told my dad yet, but my mom thinks he'll be fine with it, too. She's been testing him lately, bringing up famous gay actors, watching movies with gay characters with him. They watched Brokeback Mountain the other day. Apparently, he passed. I was...I was thinking of telling him tonight. They're waiting up for me to get back so we can talk more about the show."

Eddie smiled. "That's great, Rich. I'm happy for you." He glanced at the clock. It was 11:29. "I gotta get inside before my mother breaks and comes out to kill you."

Richie reached over and squeezed his hand. "I'll see you tomorrow. I love you."

Eddie squeezed back. "I love you, too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Next up: closing night!
> 
> P.S. If anyone is in the West Michigan area, hit me up so I can let you know what Finnegan's is based on. Those breadsticks ARE to die for...


	10. Only At Our Lowest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the final day of the show and everyone is emotional. An unexpected surprise makes things worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so late! The week before finals week is SO MUCH worse than actual finals week and I have been swamped with homework. I still have three papers I need to write, but we are so close! 
> 
> I kinda got all emo in this chapter without meaning to. It happens a lot, I've noticed. 
> 
> Title from: Move Toward the Darkness, the final song, and Richie's favorite cuz Lurch gets a solo.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

**Saturday, April 27, 2019: Closing Night**

Richie and Eddie had spent the entirety of Algebra on Friday figuring out what Eddie was going to say to his mother to get her to let him go to the cast party after closing night. Sure, he was going have to make up for the work he had ignored in the process, but it would all be worth it if he could go. He had managed to get her to let him stay out late on a school night to go to Finnegan's, and this wasn't as late and was on a Saturday. It should be so much easier to convince her.

"Yes, you can go," his mother told him after he spent five straight minutes explaining to her why he should be allowed to go, five straight minutes with hardly any breaths and no pauses between his words, as she sat watching him on the couch. Hey, he wanted to ensure no interruptions.

"And I know that...what?"

His mom smiled. "I said you can go, Eddie Bear. You've worked really hard on this play. You deserve to celebrate that. It's not a school night. Besides, you won't be out too late, right?"

"Uh...no. The show ends around 3:30 and then we have strike for maybe two hours? And then the party at like six, maybe until ten?"

"That's fine with me."

Eddie was still in shock. He wasn't expecting it to be this easy. He honestly wasn't completely expecting her to say yes at all. He still had more arguments prepared. He didn't know what to say now that they were no longer necessary. He went for the basics. "Thanks, Mom. This means a lot to me."

"Of course, Eddie. I'm not a monster. I just do whatever I can to protect you. You know that, right?"

Eddie looked down. "I know."

"Good. Now come give your mom a hug."

Eddie obeyed. As he pulled away from her, he noticed a piece of paper laying on the coffee table. He picked it up to see it was a printed ticket to see the Derry High School's production of The Addams Family Musical. "What's this?" he asked slowly.

"It's a ticket to your show, silly. What, you thought I wouldn't want to come see the show you've been working so hard on? Do you think I'm a bad mother?"

"No!" he said quickly. "I just...you didn't say anything about going. I didn't think you were interested."

"You're in it, Eddie Bear. Of course I'm interested in seeing it. What kind of mother would I be if I didn't go see the musical that her son was in? Do you really think so low of me?"

"Of course not! I just...I wasn't thinking. Of course you're coming! I don't think it's a show that's really your...type, though."

"Nonsense! I grew up watching the Addams Family. This should be fun." She stood up, grabbing her purse and the ticket. "Are you ready to go? I wanna save my seat."

"The doors don't open for another hour, Mom. You can just drop me off and come back. It's reserved seating."

"Well, then. I can just watch you guys get ready. I read something about you guys having traditions you do beforehand?"

Eddie's mind immediately flashed to Idiot Ball. "Umm...yeah, but parents aren't allowed to watch. You know theater people and their superstitions. It's bad luck."

His mom frowned. "You're not keeping something from me, are you?"

"Of course I'm not keeping anything from you," he lied. "Why would I be keeping anything from you? I have nothing to hide! Just theater superstitions. May lightning strike me where I stand if I am keeping something from you right now!"

Her frown deepened. "Lighting strike? We're inside. That's crazy talk. Are you feeling okay?"

"It's a line from the show! Gomez says it to Morticia when she accuses him of keeping something from her. Well, he _was_ keeping a secret, but I'm not! Like I said, nothing to hide. It's just a show."

"Are you sure you're feeling okay?" She pressed a hand to his forehead. "You feel a little warm. All that dancing with a fever is going to wipe you out. Maybe you should stay home today."

"I'm _fine_!" he yelled. The concern wiped from his mother's face and she raised her eyebrows at him. He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. That was uncalled for. But I'm fine. It's just...nerves. Always happens before a show. I'll be fine. Can we just go?"

"Fine. But I would at least like to see where you get ready. Then I will leave you be, if that's what you want."

Eddie sighed. It was going to be a long day.

"Do you think I would break anything if I jumped down from up here?"

"Richie, I swear to every god that has ever even been _thought up_ , if you don't get down from there, you won't have to worry about breaking anything from the drop; _I_ will do it for you." Richie stared at Stan with wide eyes before hurrying down the stairs of the set. 

"Shit, Stanley, you're even more uptight than usual. Are you okay?"

"I'm great," he lied. To tell the truth, he was very much not okay. Today was the last day of the show. All of the hard work he had put in over the last three months was going to be over. He was going to have to go back to...normal levels of control. 

"Aw, Stanley," Richie said, throwing an arm around his shoulders. "I'm going to miss it, too. But we still have one more show, right? Plenty of time for you to boss everyone around a little bit more."

"I just feel like...this time was different, you know? Like I connected with everyone. I just don't want it to end. I don't want us to go to school on Monday and act like we don't know each other, like we always do. I know I'll still have you guys but...I don't know. It's stupid."

"It's not stupid," Richie told him. "I get it. Honestly, it's been fun. I never imagined going to rehearsals three hours a day for five to six days a week for months was going to be _fun_ , but it is. Especially these traditions. I mean, Idiot Ball? _Exactly_ something Bill and I would have invented on a slow summer day. These guys are just as crazy as we are."

"So are you rethinking what we talked about earlier this week?"

"Maybe I-" He was distracted by a familiar voice in the hallway, explaining that this was the music section of the school. His face lit up. "Eddie's here!"

Stan rolled his eyes but followed Richie out of the auditorium. They both stopped short when they saw who Eddie was with. Eddie, who had passed the door, turned back when he heard their footsteps. "Hey, guys." He nodded to the side, where his mother stood next to him. "My mom is coming to the show today!" His tone was bright and happy, but Stan could see the uneasiness in his eyes. He didn't know what to say.

Luckily, that never seemed to be a problem for Richie. "Mrs. K!" he greeted with a big smile. "You are looking _lovely_ this Saturday afternoon. Did you do something new with your hair?"

"Richie," she said in a disgusted voice. "I forgot you were in this show. Please tell me you don't have a speaking role."

"Well, not _exactly_ ," Eddie told her.

"My speaking parts are moans and grunts. The language of _love_ , wouldn't you say?"

"Beep beep, Richie," Eddie muttered. 

Sonia Kaspbrak looked down at him, a scowl on his face. "I don't know how your mother let you get away with that filthy mouth of yours. Or why I ever let you anywhere _near_ my son." She put an arm around him protectively. 

Richie scoffed. "Your _son_ -" He paused, taking a deep breath. "You're right, Mrs. K. Eddie's too good for me. If you'll excuse me, I have some _dastardly_ activities to attend to." With a furious look on his face, he stormed down the hallway and into the dressing room. 

Stan smiled politely at Eddie's mom. "I hope you enjoy the show, Mrs. Kaspbrak." He nodded, then went after Richie. He was leaning against the counter, his hands gripping it so hard his knuckles were white. His eyes were closed and he was taking deep breaths.

He looked up when Stan entered. "God, that woman really pisses me off."

"I know," Stan said, putting his hand on Richie's shoulder. "You surprised me. I really thought you were going to fight her."

"I wanted to. I want to scream at her about all the shit she puts Eddie through, but it would just make things worse for him. The only thing we can do is make sure Eddie knows we love and support him."

Stan stared at him. "That's incredibly...mature of you, Rich. I'm proud of you."

Richie rolled his eyes. "Thanks, Dad."

"I thought Ben was the dad friend."

"No, Ben is the _mom_ friend. _Bev_ is the dad friend."

Stan grinned. "What am I, then?"

"Grandpa friend, of course." The two of them laughed. "Mike's the cool aunt who buys you weird gifts and lets you sip his alcoholic beverage. Bill is the weird stoner cousin who will take any dare you give him. And Eddie's the two-year-old because he's so damn cute but also will fight you."

"And you haven't changed at all from being a loud-mouthed, idiot thirteen-year-old."

Richie shrugged. "Who said that was a bad thing?"

"I did. Plenty of times."

Richie pushed him lightly on the shoulder. "Ah, you love me."

"I know." Richie pulled him closer and wrapped his arms around him.

The door opened and Stan heard Eddie's voice say, "You have _one_ argument with my mom and you leave me for Stan?"

Richie released his arms just long enough for Stan to turn around before wrapping him up again. "Who said I was leaving you? I have enough love to go around."

Stan scoffed. " _Please._ I'm out of your league."

"Good thing your standards are so low."

Stan pulled away, despite Richie's protests. "As much as I am _loving_ the love and affection being spread around here," he said in a flat one, "I have to go get ready for Idiot Ball. See ya."

"Later, babe," Richie called after him.

"Fuck off," Stan said, letting the door close behind him. Sure, he _did_ need to get Idiot Ball going soon, but he really just wanted to give time for Richie and Eddie to talk. They didn't get much time alone these days, and today might have been their last chance for a while if Eddie's mom extended his house arrest. They wouldn't even have rehearsals to sneak out of after today. The only thing they would have is school, which was its own kind of prison. Which was why he needed this plan to work.

"Did you get it?" he asked Tracy as soon as he approached her.

She pulled a small box out of her backpack and held it out for him. When he tried grab it, she moved it away. "What do you need this for, exactly? Are you planning on committing a crime?"

"Yes," Stan told her, face blank. 

She stared at him, squinting her eyes. Then she shrugged. "Alright then. Just don't tell the police where you got this from."

Stan scoffed. "As if I'm going to get caught." 

"And my payment?"

Stan scowled, breathing through his nose. "Thank you. You didn't have to do this for me and I..." He paused.

"Yes?" Tracy asked, grinning.

He sighed. "I appreciate you."

"And?"

"And..." He groaned. "And you did a great job as stage manager this year. Better than I could have done. You are the best stage manager Derry has ever seen."

She leaned back against the wall, arms crossed. "Now was that so hard?"

"I'm going to go throw up now."

He went to walk away, but Tracy grabbed his arm, frowning. "You're not in any trouble are you?"

Stan shook his head. "No. Not me." He paused before adding, "Not yet, anyway."

"So you're just not going to do the best part of the show?" Richie asked. He and Eddie were sitting on the counter in the dressing room. They had definitely been told countless times _not_ to sit on the counters, but, hey, these were trying times.

"How am I supposed to go on stage and play a gay cowboy flirting with my secret lover in front of an audience that contains my deeply homophobic mother, who, by the way, hates said secret lover's guts?"

Richie tillted his head, leaning back against the mirror. "'Secret lover.' I like that."

"Richie, I'm being _serious_."

He leaned forward. "I get that, Eds. But exactly how much of your life are you going to let your mother control? Besides, it's _acting._ She has to understand that."

"Richie. She stopped letting me watch Doctor Who after Jack Harkness was introduced because she thought it would influence me to be gay."

"Didn't it, though?"

"That's not the point. The point is, she wouldn't even let me _watch_ queer characters. Do you realize how terribly she will react if she sees me _playing_ one? Or, God forbid, _being_ one? She'll never let me leave the house again."

Richie was silent for a moment. "So, do you want to talk to Abby then? She should know if you're going to change the show."

"I guess I have to." 

They sat together, not speaking, for a few more minutes, just embracing their aloneness. Richie grabbed Eddie's and Eddie rested his head on Richie's shoulder. Richie just watched him, not knowing what he could say that could possibly make this situation better. He felt that rage, buried down, threatening to come up and ruin this moment. He pushed it down. There were plenty of chances to get angry later. For now, he just wanted to sit there. He had no idea what was going to happen tomorrow, or in two days, or even that night. He didn't care. All that mattered was that Eddie was with him. 

They reluctantly pulled apart when they heard some boys shouting outside that it was time for Idiot Ball. Just as soon as they pulled away, the door opened and one of the chorus boys yelled at them to get ready. Eddie hopped off the counter. "I think I'm going to skip it today. I don't want my mom wandering in and seeing me recklessly endangering my well-being. I'm going to go talk to Abby."

"Want me to go with?"

"Could you?" Richie looked down into those big brown eyes, so full of sadness that he wanted to Idiot Ball Mrs. K. He gave Eddie's hand a squeeze and they left to go find Abby. Richie told Bill and Stan when they passed that they had to go talk to Abby, and Stan at least seemed to understand why. 

They found Abby in the back of the auditorium, setting up the programs for the show. Her face went through many phases as Eddie explained to her what was happening: first neutral, then confused, then angry, before finally settling on somber. "I see," she said when Eddie finished speaking. She took off her glasses and rubbed at her eyes. "I can't say I'm not upset by your desire to play it safe, but I would never want to do anything to put you in danger." She touched Eddie's arm softly. "Are you? In danger, I mean."

Richie and Eddie exchanged a look. "No," Eddie said, looking down at the ground. "I don't think so. No. She just...she wouldn't be happy if she saw me flirting with another guy on stage. You know how it is in Derry."

"Unfortunately, I do. There's a lot of small-minded people in this town. It's part of what I love about theater. It's a way to...open yourself up to new experiences, to literally put yourself in someone else's shoes. It fosters empathy, creativity, courage. You might be playing the role of someone else, but you are exposing yourself, your _heart_ , on stage in front of so many people. In a way, what we do here is more honest than how people behave in their daily lives because you get to see people for who they really are, not who they pretend to be. We are playing _real people_ that the audience can relate to, so they don't feel as alone with their thoughts, their feelings. But some people, they don't want to see these 'real people.' They want people to hide who they are because the truth scares them. This idea of differences, that not everyone fits into the boxes that they have created in their minds, it makes them uncomfortable. So they do what they can to suppress these people, these ideas, simply because of their own insecurities." She sighed. "Sorry. I went off on a little tangent there. I just...I want you to feel like you are safe here, like you can be yourselves. If there is anything, _anything_ , that you need to talk about, you can always come talk to me. Even when I am not here, in between shows, just message me. We can meet up somewhere, or just chat online. I am always here for you." She gave each of them a hug, though the one she gave Eddie was just a tad bit longer. When they pulled away, Richie saw Eddie wiping at his eyes. "Now, go get ready. We have a show to put on!"

"Thanks, Abby," Richie told her. 

"Of course. I know I get on your case a lot, but I just want you to be the best you can be."

"I know. Come on, Eds." He grabbed Eddie's hand and started walking down the side of the auditorium towards the stage. He glanced back once to find Abby staring after them, clutching a stack of programs to her chest and smiling sadly at them.

Traditions got a little emotional that day. The "Ducks fly together!" and "Razzle Dazzle" were normal (well, as normal as can be expected from shouting about being a duck and dancing around the room to a song from a jazz musical about murder), but once the speeches started, the flood gates opened. The one who gave the closing speech, the boy who played Gomez, was a senior, so it was his last show here.

"As you all know," he began, "today is the last time we will perform this show, the last show of the year, the last time that us seniors will perform _any_ show at Derry High."

"Way to keep the mood light, Trevor," someone said. Everyone laughed.

Trevor shrugged. "It's true. Now, no interruptions, please. This is my big moment." Everyone laughed again. "Theater has been a big part of my life for the last four years. The only part of my life that really mattered. I've been doing shows since elementary school, but being in theater in high school has been so much more...impactful. This hasn't just been an acting job. I'll have plenty of those. I'm really talented." More laughter. "What has made theater so important to me is the people. You guys. We all know Derry isn't the most...welcoming town. To be yourself is to be a target. But as soon as we step into the choir room, or the auditorium, or that hallway, all of that goes away. I'm home. You guys are my family. I'm really going to miss you all when I graduate. I know my life will never be the same. I don't want to say that I peaked in high school, cuz that is way too depressing to think about, but I do know that you all made my experience here way better than I ever could have imagined. So...thank you." He cleared his throat. "Anyways, no more talking about my feelings. I hate that. You guys have been doing a great job this weekend. Keep it up! Make sure that my last show here is the best one yet, or I will find you all and I will-"

"Okay!" one of the chorus girls said, stopping out of the circle. "Thank you for that _wonderful_ closing night speech, Trevor. Time for Hewie the Mouse!" She pushed Trevor back into the circle and pulled out her phone to read her speech. "Tonight, Hewie goes to a cast member who has been, honestly, very surprising to watch. When I first met them, I was so sure they didn't take theater seriously, and that upset me, as someone who cares so much about it. But then I watched them eagerly picking up choreography, always showing up to rehearsals with a smile on their face. I've watched them stepping out of their shell throughout the season, showing me their creativity and their courage by taking their character and bringing them to life. They have created a character that is more than just a chorus member, even though they don't have any lines, and I think I can speak for everyone that it is so fun to watch what they do each night. I hope they continue in their creative endeavors after the show ends. I know I can't wait to see what they do next. Hewie the Mouse goes to..." She paused for dramatic effect. "...Eddie Kaspbrak!"

Eddie's heart skipped a beat at hearing his name. He stood frozen in place for a moment. Richie, on the other hand, was the opposite. As everyone clapped enthusiastically, he jumped, grabbing Eddie and cheering. "That's my Eddie!" he yelled.

Eddie stepped forward with a shy smile. He hugged the chorus girl and took the mouse statue. "Um...thank you, Haley."

"You deserve it, Eddie. Your character and Lurch give me life. It's one of my favorite parts of the whole musical." She leaned in to whisper in his ear. "I don't know if it's just acting for you but...it feels real. And it means a lot to me, to be able to see some representation in such a deeply heterosexual musical."

Eddie, not knowing how to respond, just nodded and left the room to hide the mouse as Haley reminded everyone of the rules. As he looked for a good hiding spot, he went over what she had said over and over in his mind. He had no idea he had made such an impact on anyone. He knew everyone had been fine with it, or at least no one had said anything to him, but he hadn't realized that people actually _enjoyed_ it. He certainly hadn't known that it had meant anything more than just entertainment for anyone. He thought about how he would feel, seeing his classmates playing a gay character on stage, and realized that he would have loved it. His mother had never let him watch anything once she found out there was any "homosexual activity" in it, but whenever he would watch things with the Losers and there was a gay character in it, he would feel...happy. It was like a reminder that he wasn't alone in the world. 

When he returned, Abby was just finishing up her speech and then they began their sacred ritual. He noticed quite a few people with tear stains on their faces and realized he had some of his own. He hadn't even really noticed he had been crying. Richie squeezed his hand when he grabbed it for the ritual. He hadn't done his makeup yet, but his eyes were red. 

After everyone had left the room, people were hugging each other and crying even more. Eddie pulled Richie aside. "We have to do it," he told him.

"Do...what?' Richie asked.

"The...thing. The flirting. The relationship. The one between the cowboy and Lurch."

Richie looked confusedly at him. "Why? I thought you said you couldn't. Your mom..."

"I need to. For me, for the cast members. Most importantly, for the gay kid in the audience who will look up and see two guys who are attracted to each other and showing it."

"There's a gay kid in the audience? Who?"

" _Hypothetically_ , Richie. I know that, if I was in that audience, I would want to see this. I'm tired of being so afraid all the time. We learned a long time ago that fear is a dangerous feeling. I love you, Richie, and I don't want to hide that. At the very least, I don't want my character to hide it." He grabbed Richie's hands. "I want to do this."

"Are you sure?"

"Not in the slightest. But we're doing it anyway. That is, if that's okay with you."

"Well, we did it for two and a half shows. Why not one more?"

Eddie smiled. "Then let's do it."

After the show, everyone quickly went to the dressing rooms to change. They all wanted to get to the cast party as soon as possible, and they still had strike to get through. 

"I can't believe it's over," Bill said, sliding off his jacket. "It feels like just last week I got the news that I was playing Lucas."

"I know, Richie said. He took off his shirt and Eddie found himself staring just a tad bit too long. He business himself with pulling his shoes off. "You'd think that daily three-hour rehearsals for two months straight would drag, but it went by so fast. I'm really going to miss it."

"There's always the fall play. I hope we all keep doing this. It was nice with just Bev, Ben, and Stan, but it's really nice having you all here. It's one more thing we all have together."

"I know _I'm_ going to audition," Eddie said. "That is, if my mom still lets me."

Richie put his arm around Eddie. "And wherever Eds goes, I go."

Eddie hung is costume on the rack. "I hope so. You're my ride." 

Richie gasped dramatically. "Is that all I am to you? A glorified chauffeur?"

Eddie grinned. "Among other things." He nudged Richie and he grinned back.

All of the boys looked up as there was a commotion in the hallway. Eddie could hear someone yelling at someone else and his stomach dropped. "Is that your mom?" Richie asked.

Eddie nodded. "I should go before she starts a fight with Abby. That's one standoff I never want to see." The three of them shuddered at the thought. He left the dressing room, in his normal clothes but with his makeup still on. He saw his mom yelling at Abby, who was calmly trying to stop her from storming into the dressing room. "Mom?" he said. "What's going on?"

She turned to him when he spoke. "Eddie! I was just telling this _skank_ about how upset I am with your performance."

"Skank?" Abby asked.

Her voice seemed to draw Eddie's mom back to their "discussion". "How _dare_ you expose my son to such behavior! I know it's because of this theater crap because he was never like that before."

"Like what?" Richie asked, stepping out of the dressing room. One of the boys held the door open and they were all huddled at the entrance. Some of the girls had come out of their dressing room as well.

" _You_ ," Eddie's mom said, focusing her attention on Richie. "You need to stay away from my son. You have done nothing but expose him to all of these... _ideas_. _Filthy_ ideas. I always knew there was something going on with you. Always touching my son, putting your filthy hands all over him. I had no idea it had gotten this far."

"Sonia," Abby snapped. "I suggest you stop talking to my students like that. All they did was put on a show. It's acting. We didn't mean anything by it. It was my idea. I thought it would spruce up their characters a little bit, give them life. I apologize if I overstepped and did something that made you uncomfortable. But don't blame the kids for it. Blame me."

"Oh, I blame you _plenty_. Grab your stuff, Eddie. We're leaving."

"But, Mom! You said I could go to the cast party!"

"Not anymore. I don't need you around these...these _people_ any longer. You'll be lucky if I decide not to switch schools."

Eddie's heart was racing and he felt tears in his eyes, but for a different reason than earlier. "Switch schools? You can't do that!"

"I am your mother. I can do what I please. _Get your things_."

Eddie wanted to argue more, but he knew it was no use. He walked passed Richie, ignoring the look he was giving him. While he was shoving his stuff back into his backpack, trying unsuccessfully to keep the tears away, Stan hurried into the room. He knelt down next to Eddie on the floor and handed him a small box. "Take this. Wrap gift. Don't let your mother see." Then he quickly left the room. Eddie stared at the box for a second before adding it to his bag. He shoved his arms through the straps and stormed out of the dressing room.

"Eds," Richie said as he passed him. 

Eddie turned back just for a second to say, "I'm sorry," before walking right passed his mother.

"Don't think I won't be contacting the school board about this," he heard his mother say before she followed him.

Eddie was silent the whole way home, but that didn't stop his mother from ranting to him about how she always knew theater turned people gay and that she never should have let him join. He wanted to scream at her, to tell her that theater didn't make him this way, but he knew anything he said she wouldn't accept. Once she set her mind on something, she stuck with it. No facts or reason could pull her out of it.

As soon as she stopped the car, he was out of it, storming up the stairs and slamming the door to his room. He dropped his backpack on his bed and pulled out the box that Stan had given him. It was wrapped perfectly in silver wrapping paper. Eddie felt a little bad about ripping it. Inside, there was a cardboard box and a folded up piece of paper. The paper was a letter in Stan's handwriting.

After skimming through it, Eddie collapsed on his bed. Oh, he was going to be in _so_ much trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! I wanted to make this work a nice, even ten chapters, but this one turned out longer than expected so I decided to give the cast party its own separate chapter.
> 
> I really planned on having this done by now, but things never go as plan. I have classes to finish up and I'm moving on Tuesday, but I will get this last chapter out as soon as possible!
> 
> Random fact: I cannot for the life of me remember what we named our golden statue. Even when I was in theater I couldn't remember its name, so I changed it. I wanted to just leave it out, but that would be a little awkward to write. It also had a little speech that went with it, but I can't remember that either.


End file.
